


Shadows

by J_Antebellum



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Antebellum/pseuds/J_Antebellum
Summary: With the World Cup and Olympics over, Ashlyn and Ali have built themselves a little family and a happy life in Altamonte Springs, Orlando. They've got a dog, a son, a second child coming, and Ali, who has retired, is happy with her new professional life, just like Ashlyn is still being a goalkeeper.But on the event of a really ugly hurricane, Ashlyn gets in serious trouble, and as her confidence vanishes, she has no other choice but run from the shadows until she decides to face them or see them destroy everything she loves.





	1. Hurricane Joel

**Chapter 1: Hurricane Joel.**

September came early this year, with Hurricane Joel around the corner for Florida, causing intense rainfalls. They had been talking on the news about the hurricane for weeks, so the state had been partially evacuated, but in Central Florida, this wasn't done much. Ali Krieger-Harris' mother had flown from Miami to her daughter's home in Altamonte Springs, north from Orlando, even though she lived in a flat in one of the higher storeys of a big apartment building, but with it being by the coast, she still wasn't confident there. Her husband Mike, Ali's Step-Dad, was the owner of a big company, and was thankfully on a work trip to Canada, so at least it was one worry less. Ali's big brother, Kyle, lived with his husband in NYC, where the hurricane would arrive as a mere storm in a week, so he was only worried about his dear sister and their Dad, who lived with his wife in Dumfries, DC, and would get the worst of the storm into which Joel would transform, but he'd be fine, being far from the coast anyway.

What did concern Ali, however, was her family in law. The Harris were spread in Brevard County, right in the Atlantic Coast. Her father-in-law lived alone in a flat in Melbourne, where he might be a little more protected, and so did her wife's closest cousins and their children, but a large part of their friends, plus her mother-in-law, lived in Satellite Beach, some in Cocoa Beach, or around. Many of them had evacuated, since they lived in little houses. Christopher, her brother-in-law, had fortunately convinced his mother to come into his flat in West Melbourne, where he lived with his pregnant wife, and where they should be safe, living in a fifth storey, but they were still worried about their family and friends, even those who were relatively safe, and about what would happen to their homes. At least, while Ali had never lived a hurricane as big as Joel was supposed to be, Tammye had lived a few just fine, and so had her family.

“Ashlyn should be back already,” Debbie, Ali's mother, commented looking through the window with a frown. It was raining heavily and they had gotten all the outside furniture inside, disconnecting any cables and trimming the trees because the last hurricane, five years before, had caused for a palm tree to collapse right next to the house. The wind was already strong.

“I told her not to go,” Ali sighed, filled with worry. She was five months pregnant with their second child, and her wife had gone off to make sure their friends in Orlando all were prepared, since most of them had little or none experience with Florida hurricanes and storms, while Ashlyn had lived in Florida on-and-off for nearly thirty-eight years: her whole life. And for the last seven, uninterruptedly, just like the first almost two decades of her life, in which she had made of Satellite Beach her home. “She's walking out there, she's going to soak, or get hurt, and then the ambulance will never arrive with the chaos that is about to happen...” she was rambling in worry now, and Debbie calmly sat with her and squeezed her forearm for comfort while the brunette thirty-nine year-old woman gave some dinner to her son, Finley James, who had just turned two and was eating solids now, in this case, some chicken with baby carrots.

“Don't worry honey, it's going to be okay. Ash has plenty of experience with hurricanes, she knows what she's doing,” Debbie smiled at Finley, caressing his dirty-blonde hair, that was wavy and messy. “You like that, love?”

“Mama, rain rain?” asked Finley with his limited language, his hazel eyes looking at Ali.

“Yes sweetheart, it's raining a lot!” Ali chuckled, always happy to hear his beautiful soft voice. “Want Nana to give you a bath before bedtime?”

“Yes!” Finley loved Debbie. He loved all his grandparents more or less the same, so every time any came, he was excited no matter what. “Momma bath me too?”

“Momma went out and isn't home yet, my love, but she'll be here shortly,” Ali assured him. The storm was just getting worse, and she tried not to let her fears show, even though Logan hiding under the master room's bed trembling wasn't a big guarantee that it was all good.

Once Finley ate, Debbie took him to the bathroom for a bath, both walking hand-in-hand through the house. Ali sat with Logan to give her some cuddles and get both of them to calm down a little, as she really needed to stay calm for their unborn daughter, conceived with her eggs and Finley's same donor's sperm, so they were biologically step-siblings, although not raised any differently than if they had come from the same DNA material.

Thing was, they had originally planned for Ali to carry a child with Ashlyn's DNA and a donor's, and then for Ashlyn to carry one with Ali's DNA and a donor's. This was because they both wanted to have that experience, and they both wanted a baby that looked a little like the one they loved, even if it was just a bit, so they thought it would be a perfect way for both of them to biologically have an active participation on the creation of at least, two of their children. They hadn't discarded options such as adoption, just postponed it because the amount of paperwork and visits back and forth from social workers and themselves going to the kid for visits during months and months was very inconvenient and hard to deal with while playing soccer professionally and having mess schedules. They definitely wanted a big family, after all, and planned for the majority of their children to be adopted, once timing was good.

So Finley James came around, after Ali had quit the National Team after the 2020 Olympics. Then, after a year, Ashlyn felt ready to quit soccer completely and continue to grow their family. Before making any decision to quit, she went for medical appointments to make sure she could get pregnant, and discovered there were anomalies inside of her, that she was born with and that would make a pregnancy quite risky both for her and the baby, but wouldn't affect her one bit if she never carried children. It was a bummer, but together they decided Ashlyn should keep playing and when Ali was prepared for retirement, no sooner, she wanted to carry their second child, this time being easier because it would be her own genetic material, as Ashlyn ended-up deciding she had dreamed with a child that would inherit bits of Ali for many years and if Ali was willing to carry, she could live with not carrying it herself. It took time, but eventually she was ready to make that sort of decision, and so was Ali. So now, Ali was pregnant, retired, and Ashlyn had been playing until just weeks before, when she retired from soccer completely after winning the World Cup in the summer and getting out of the NWSL playoffs (with two past NWSL championships under her belt, at least), to be home more to care for the growing family, after being Orlando Pride's captain and goalkeeper for seven years, the last few wearing the jersey 24 Krieger-Harris.

They wanted to slow down a little now, devote to their other careers, with modelling and also, in Ashlyn's case, doing some design, her own AH Goalkeeping Camps, and working in artistry things, and in Ali's case, commenting women's games, doing her AK Football Camps, and coaching the very first girls' under 16 football team of Orlando. It was an official team sponsored by Orlando City and Orlando Health, also included a boy's team, and participated in Florida's mini leagues, with hopes of getting future professional players. Other clubs in America were also doing it, and the sport was getting a chance of a better tomorrow. Eventually, they'd get the French bulldog Ashlyn had always wanted, and a third, adopted child, a process they had already begun to study.

“Pick-up the fucking phone,” Ali murmured as she tried ringing Ashlyn once more. “Come on!” then suddenly, thunder and lighting shook the house, Finley started crying in the bathroom, and all lights went out. “FUCK!”

Ali rushed to the bathroom calling her mother, who assured it was all right, she had just been drying Finley off. While Debbie calmed the boy down, Ali got a couple lanterns from their emergency supplies box, and opened a couple packages of candles. Fortunately, this wasn't the first time the lights went off, so they had a whole load of supplies for those situations and soon, the house was full of candles, one lantern in each hand, and Ali held and sang to Finley until he fell asleep.

“Is he asleep?” Debbie came into her room, where Ali had moved Finley's crib to have him closer.

“Yeah.”

“The entire street seems to be without electricity, an electric post must have collided, because there's heavy wind, I looked through the windows and the entire street is dark suddenly.”

“Shit...”

“And it's not the worst thing. The weather must be affecting the signal, because there's none.”

“No signal?” Ali pulled her phone, and realized it was true. “Fuck! If Ashlyn's out there alone she has no way of calling for help or getting here safely in the dark. I'll get in the car and look for her...”

“No,” Debbie shook her head. “It's too dangerous, Ali. What if she arrives while you're out, and then you've got problems and can't get help? The wind is going to get worse, and so is the rain, thunder and lighting. Look, I'm worried as well, but perhaps she lost her signal before we did, and she decided to stay at your friend's house because it was safer.”

A knot took place in Ali's throat as anxiety overwhelmed her and she suddenly felt like crying. These hurricanes scared her, Ashlyn wouldn't leave her, she had only left because Marc, their coach, was from Birmingham, where these things were so rare he had never lived them, and she had been worried about him. She promised to be back fast, she wouldn't leave them alone in a situation like this, knowing she, Finley and Logan would be scared shitless.

“I have to go, Mum,” Ali insisted.

“I'll go, you're pregnant...”

“No, you don't know the area that well. I'll drive slow, I won't go too far, just enough to get my signal back and call Marc. You stay with the kids,” this included Logan, their big dog, “and I'll be back in half an hour at most.”

“I don't like this,” Debbie frowned, worried. Ali sighed, stood up, and started getting into warmer clothes, illuminated by the candles, that formed a warm, dimly light.

“Me neither, but she's my wife, Mum. If anything happens to her, I...” Ali couldn't talk. She took a deep breath to calm herself and grabbed the biggest raincoat she had, and boots. “You said it yourself, this has just begun. If she's out when the worst comes, she'll be in serious trouble.”

“I understand... just please be very careful.”

“I will be. Take care of the team.”

They hugged and Ali grabbed one lantern, her mobile, and a bunch of towels, and got in the car. She was thinking perhaps the storm had surprised Ashlyn walking the twenty-minutes walking distance from Marc's house, and maybe she was soaked and in a stranger's house, crossing fingers things got calmer for just enough time to run home. Thus, she figured a bunch of towels may be of use.

Once in the car, she checked the radio, in fact, couldn't pick any signals, and it rained so hard she could hardly hear her own thoughts, and the streets were flooding fast. Luckily, there was a bit of a hill to the entry of their house, so the water wouldn't get in, but, Ali reflected, they had a shit house for hurricanes. And this one was category five, and it had only hit Miami's coast for now. She prayed their family through Florida was okay.

“Come on, Ash...” she used the long lights to try and see anything, but it was very hard to even see a metre before her. She drove out of the gated community area in a way longer time than usual, and tried to calm her racing heart and not freak out in fear as she found branches and street signals on the ground here and there. One tree had even fallen and blocked a narrow street. It looked like the end of the world, yet it was just a hurricane.

Ali drove in Marc's house's direction, in another gated community nearby, through a long avenue and then some smaller streets. As she made her way down one of the narrow, smaller streets, being one of the very little amount of cars out in the street, she suddenly saw someone on the pavement by the road, by some tall office buildings, not moving. Heart drumming faster, Ali decided it was her duty to help. Someone might've gotten knocked with a flying branch or slipped on the floor and knocked himself unconscious and she had to help, otherwise, what kind of person would she be?

She parked as close as possible, pulled the raincoat's hood over her dark hair, that was long to a little below her shoulders, and quickly exited the car. She was immediately hit by such intense wind she had to grip the hood with her hands and felt the water slap her face and body with violence, but she fought against the wind and ran to the figure. As she got nearer, her eyes widened as she saw blood covering the person's front, mixing with the water and disappearing in a current over the pavement. The face, in fact, was also covered with blood, and the person wasn't moving.

When Ali lifted the person's sleeve to check for a pulse and saw her own face on the forearm skin, and rings she knew too well on a right hand she knew too well, her stomach dropped to her feet.

It was her wife, Ashlyn Krieger-Harris. And she barely had a pulse.

  
  


 


	2. The hardest choice

**Chapter 2: The hardest choice.**

The drive back home was as fast as it could've possibly been, and was filled with thunder and lightning. Ashlyn lied on the back-seat, wrapped up in towels from head to toe, and Ali was soaked in front of the wheel. The moment her park was back next to Ashlyn's BMW in their garage, Ali jumped off the car, hearing Finley crying and shouting for her mother. Debbie quickly appeared, carrying the crying child, while Ali had yanked open the back door and was examining Ashlyn closely. The towels had filled with blood, and she could see there was blood pouring from a wound over her right eyebrow, one eye was purple and shut close from how swollen it was, her left cheek was bruised and swollen, her lip was split, her hands were covered in bruises, and what was worse, she had a deep wound, possibly gunshot wound, on the center of her abdomen, right below her ribs, that was bleeding a big load, and that had a correspondent wound on her back right next to her spine.

But she was breathing, just unconscious.

“What the...?” Debbie looked over, illuminating them with her lantern and carrying a crying Finley with her free arm.

“I have no idea,” said Ali. “But the weather is getting worse and worse, and it was too unsafe to take her to the hospital. The chances of a tree falling on us, floods, and accident are too big, the streets are full of branches and visibility is shit. We'll treat her here.” She was determined to save her life.

Debbie nodded in agreement, and ran to leave Finley in his crib before helping Ali get Ashlyn. Not only the younger woman was nearing thirty-eight, tall, muscular and thus heavy, but she was also soaked, and water made her heavier. Ali grabbed her bride style and got her out of the car clenching her jaw from the effort, and pushed by the adrenaline of the moment, and Debbie got on Ashlyn's other side and put her arms under her to support her weight as well as they rushed her to the master bedroom, with Debbie separating for a moment to lie all the towels she could find over the duvet to put Ashlyn on top and keep trying to dry her.

“Is she...?” Debbie asked, anxious and overwhelmed with worry. Ali shook her head.

“No, and she better not. I have no fucking idea what happened, but she'll die if we don't act fast. Is the internet working at least?”

“No, the weather must be messing with the signal.”

“Shit,” Ali and Debbie were working fast to take Ashlyn's soaked clothes from her so they could actually see the injuries clearly, with Finley crying standing in his crib gripping the railing and Logan jumping on the armchair of the room and cuddling, scared.

“Luckily in the school where I worked,” Deb had now retired, “they made us teachers learn what to do in case of a shooting, we saw videos, documentaries and all. We need to put pressure on the wounds to try to keep the bleeding at bay.”

“Are we sure is bullet? Could be knife.”

“No, this is too... this is how gunshot wounds look like,” Debbie attempted to examine them, with the blood pouring so much from them that it was hard to see.

Ali took blankets and covered Ashlyn's legs and as much of her body as possible while still being able to work, seeing she was covered in bruises from head to toe. Her forehead had grown three sizes around where the gash was, but it didn't bleed so much, although the woman was very pale and looking like she suffered hypothermia, trembling. While Debbie used towels to put pressure on the bullet wounds, Ali did her best to calm the toddler down until he could fall back asleep with noise-cancelling baby headphones on so the noise of thunder, rain and wind wouldn't bother him. She also did her best to calm Logan just enough to not be so scared and howling as she was, and washed her hands to help her mother.

“What can I do?” Ali asked, anguished, pressing two fingers against Ashlyn's neck to check she still had a pulse.

“She's lost a big load of blood, but at least we know the bullet is not inside anymore. We need to turn her on her side, and you keep pressure on the back wound, okay? We need to make sure she can breathe.”

“Recovery position,” Ali nodded, and helped roll Ashlyn, immediately pressuring with hands and towels against the wound on her back. She brought one hand to Ashlyn's mouth, making sure nothing obstructed her throat and she could breathe, and finding blood instead. “Mum, there's blood!”

“It's possible that her stomach or lungs got damaged and there's major internal bleeding. Alex,” Debbie looked at her pale and with bright eyes, “this is really bad. We need to get her to the hospital no matter what, or she's going to die.”

Ali looked down at her left hand, pressed against her wife's back and already soaking with blood, and looked at Ashlyn's colourless face, blood dripping down her lips.

“Ash,” Ali called, letting a sob out. “Ash...”

“Hold it together Alex, come on,” Debbie tried to keep her collected. “Think fast, is there anywhere we can take her to? An outpatients clinic maybe?”

“There's a hospital,” Ali gulped down. “It's ten minutes away by car under normal circumstances... perhaps twenty with this weather. But they must be without power as well.”

“They're our best shot. We'll use sheets to keep pressure on the wounds and we'll get her there, okay? It's her best chance, Alex. Here, she will die.”

“It's too dangerous!” Ali anxiously shouted.

“Alexandra, she is going to die, okay?” Debbie said full of fear as well. She felt for her daughter and daughter in law and knew there was nothing else they could do. “Listen to me. We don't know if she's got major head injury. We don't know what's happened. All we know is that here she doesn't stand a chance. I'll get her to the hospital, and you stay here and keep all of your children safe and well. The hospital may have back-up power, and the moment I get signal I will call you, uh?”

Anguish, stress and anxiety filled Ali to the point where it was almost overwhelming, as they stared at each other in the candle-lighted room. Ali knew her mother was right. They had to get Ashlyn to the hospital, and Ali couldn't go. If anything happened, she'd be dead with her wife and unborn child, while if Debbie went, no child would be risked, and Ali could stay behind to look after the family. Debbie was willing to sacrifice, and she knew it. The hospital, on the other hand, was an easy route, so Debbie wouldn't get lost, it was barely two streets, metaphorically.

“You can use Ashlyn's BMW, is made for the worst situations,” Ali nodded for herself, taking a deep breath. “Let's do this.”

**. . .**

The wait was the worst. During the six hours that followed, Ali didn't know what was happening and was alone and filled with fear, trying to comfort her kids in the darkness of their house while outside, chaos unravelled. Shortly after Debbie drove a way, a palm tree fell, blocking the street, and the canal behind the house had become so full of water, that it was at garden's height. She couldn't sleep or eat, but she managed both during brief times for the benefit of her unborn baby, until finally, after the longest night of her life, the rain stopped, the wind calmed down a little, and the sun came up. And then suddenly her phone rang.

“Mum!” Ali said without looking at the caller ID, grabbing her phone as the clock hit six in the morning,

“Hi Darling,” Debbie's happiness was evident in her voice. “We're okay. We're both okay.” Ali started crying in earnest from relief, truly grateful for her family's good luck. “Are you okay, Sweetie? The kids?”

“Everyone's okay,” Ali sobbed out, breathing hard to control herself. “What... happened?”

“We arrived at the hospital within twenty minutes. Now, Ashlyn's just out of surgery, she's been there all night. She's lost a lot of blood and is very weak, but they keep her in the ICU, safe and warm. The doctors said she's got a bad concussion, that she was hit with probably strong fists, and she also fractured her left cheek bone, but will be okay. She needed facial surgery though, nothing major, just an incision below her left eye to reposition the cheekbone, it had one fracture in the middle and part of it had moved in a bad direction, but they could put it back in right place without needing anything else. Now both her eyes are swollen shut, though, but the swelling will go down. The rest is just bruises and the gunshot wound, which needed major abdominal surgery, but was a complete success. The bullet went through her stomach and left kidney, so they took the kidney out, as it was the most damaged, and repaired her stomach and all the abdominal wall muscles. The ribs were miraculously untouched, as well as her spine. It'll be a very long recovery, but the doctors think she will survive, they are most worried about infections and giving her big doses of antibiotics. They said it looked like she was shot from behind and from a very far distance, which caused less damage than had it been up close.”

“So she was running from someone,” Ali took a deep breath, feeling suddenly angry. “Is police there?”

“They came to see what I knew, and they went off to investigate, although they said Orlando is in chaos right now, and this may not be priority if bigger stuff comes up, so they might need to postpone investigation.”

“I'm going to get there, okay? I'll drive Finley and Logan to the Dwyers now that weather's better, they're always happy to take care of them, and then I'll be right there.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mum. And thank you,” Ali's voice trembled. “I owe you so much.”

Ali took her time to call their families and make sure everyone was okay before telling them Ashlyn's current situation. With no one able to fly to Orlando yet, because flights had been banned for three days until the hurricane was way gone, and with the Harrises having to, despite being worried sick about Ashlyn, help with the heavy damages Satellite had suffered, including Tammye's house, that had flooded, Ali told them not to worry and promised to keep them updated. She packed a bag for Finley and had breakfast with her son and Logan, both visibly more relaxed now, before getting them in her car and going out.

The streets were full of city employees taking care of the damages, from fallen traffic lights and trees to damaged property, and when she arrived to the Dwyers' house, they hadn't slept all night either. They sat together for coffee as Ali told them everything, and although they too were so worried, they knew what Ali needed of them was to take care of her tiny family along with their two own children and dogs, and they were more than happy to do so. Cassius Dwyer and Finley were always best buds, after all, and along with the little Dwyer princess, they were quite the trio.

“I'll be back soon, okay?” Ali hugged her son. “I love you so much, enjoy your playdate and be a good boy.” She kissed the top of his head.

“Mommy and Nana?” he asked, looking at her with worried eyes.

“You will see them soon. They're just out, working on some important things. I'm going to help them so they can be back soon with us, uh?” Finley nodded.

“Luv you Mama.”

“I love you too. Bye guys, thank you so much.”

“Give them all our love,” Sydney took Finley's hand. “Come on sweetie, we're going to play!”

Ali drove all the way to the hospital with a huge knot in her stomach. She just wanted for Ashlyn to be all right. Soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,  
> Recently, my cat, who I have had my whole life pretty much, had emergency surgery and due to reasons unknown, her recovery complicated and a few nights later she got suddenly really bad and agonised to death in my arms while we were all alone and without a possibility to get her help fast enough.  
> Understandably, I'm heartbroken. I've gone through many huge loses in my young life, and yet this one was even worst than parental ones, because through all of them, she was there. She was there to comfort me, for me to hug her when I had depression and cried myself to sleep for years and years, she was there through every single thing. My whole life. This is the first time I have to deal with a big loss without her constant love and support, and it's wrecking me inside out. She's left a huge hole everywhere; not being with me in bed, not waking me up in the morning, not mawling when I come home, not stealing my food and water when i sit down to eat, not accompanying me every-single-time I go to the bathroom... even looking at the corner of my bed she used to sleep on, or her box-bed, or her blanket makes me feel a punch to the chest.  
> I'm trying to keep writing, and I assure you I have all these chapters written, but more often than not I only feel like lying in bed moping around than like coming and updating, so I just want you to know that if I update less it's just because I'm grieving. I don't expect patience -nobody I know has really come to understand that it hurts so bloody much to lose her like I did- but I'm a very open and honest person and I thought you deserved to know the whole truth. I watched as my best friend died in my arms without being able to help her, after having already lost a good portion of my family in the recent years... it's a lot to take in. But as long as you have interest I will get my shit together, and I will update as soon as I can, I promise.


	3. Lost

**Chapter 3: Lost.**

After 37 years of life, and having skateboarded and surfed for a long portion of her life, as well as being a goalkeeper, Ashlyn had been in physical pain dozens of times. She had seen herself bleed, been admitted to the hospital, and struggled time after time, yet no time felt like this one.

The first feeling she got was similar to waking up after a very long nap. Her body felt very heavy and, although she could hear some murmuring around, she couldn't focus on what the noise was, just stretch her fingers slowly. Her eyelids felt like rocks on her eyes, her throat was completely dry, causing her to cough a little, and her brain felt like a computer that can't quite turn on. Ashlyn could tell more about the situation the more she slowly thought about it, figuring she was dreaming. She was lying down on a bed, she could feel her shoulders were on something very soft like pillows, and propelled up a little, so her head was leaning back, and not completely horizontal, although she was also not quite sitting up. As she tried to move a little more, every muscle felt cramped, like an engine unused to moving, and she groaned at the effort.

It was then that she detected a hand wrapped around her right hand. She felt something poking the inside of her right arm, and something clamped around her left ring finger, along with a tube over her moustache area, below her nostrils, horizontal. Attempting to move her right hand a little proved difficult, but she must've achieved something, because the soft, warm thing she felt wrapped around moved, and she realized it was a hand caressing her own, a thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand, and then the softest kiss on the top of her forehead.

Ashlyn's face also hurt, although very little, but enough to reduce any attempts of moving it, despite the fact that, feeling so sleepy and heavy, she didn't quite have the strength to move an eyebrow even if she had wanted to. On top of things, she could tell she was feverish. She figured she could try to speak, but her throat was so dry and she was so tired, that she could barely get out a choked noise, and then she felt a gentle squeeze of her right shoulder, and tried to open her eyes to see, but she got a flash of light and closed them again.

“Ash?” that voice was unmistakably, her wife's voice. Ashlyn tried to remember what had happened, but last she knew she was bringing inside the house all the garden furniture in preparation for a hurricane. Now, the idea of a hurricane seemed so absurd, she was really on board with the possibility of this all being just a dream, but Ali sounded so worried, she felt her mission to calm her down. So the former goalkeeper attempted speaking again, and this time after a bit of a groan came a bit of coughing, and her torso felt like burning inside. “Ash, love, calm down baby. You're okay. Just in the hospital.”

Hospital? _That_ was absurd. She had to be preparing their house for the hurricane. Who was taking care of Logan and Finley? They hated storms. They couldn't be left alone through a freaking hurricane.

“I'll get a nurse,” Christopher? Don't you fucking bring a nurse. Why is nobody thinking of the kids? That's your bloody only nephew, and you're not getting any more if you misbehave.

The goalkeeper drifted off to sleep before she was conscious of it, and when she next felt aware of herself, the only thing that had changed was that her eyes felt less heavy, and she managed to half open them, getting to see a dimly-lit hospital bedroom. She was on a hospital bed, in a hospital gown, with an IV into her right arm and cables attached to a clamp on her finger of the left hand, attaching her to machines that were behind the head of the bed. Ali was on an armchair next to her head, holding her right hand between both of hers, looking down with tired eyes as her thumb absent-mindedly rubbed the back of her hand, Christopher stood up looking through one of the many windows by her right, and Alex Morgan chatted with her parents in soft murmurs, sitting on chairs on a corner.

Ashlyn's brain felt like fog and clouds, and she could only think that Ali looked too tired, sad and worried, and she wanted to make her smile so badly.

“Al...” she managed to croak, coughing because her throat was dry like carton. Ali instantly looked up, as did the others, and smiled, leaning forward and putting her left hand on her right shoulder.

“Hi you,” Ali smiled big at her, and she felt so victorious inside, if she had had the energy, she'd be up and dancing. “You're a bit thirsty, uh?” Ashlyn managed a nod.

“Good thing the nurse gave us this for you,” Christopher came over, smiled at her, and held up a small glass with water and a straw, that he picked from the night-stand, putting the straw between her lips. “Slowly, okay? Careful.”

Why was drinking so hard? She closed her eyes from the effort, feeling tired again, before she decided she'd had enough water, and let it wet her dry lips before Christopher retired it.

“Finn,” Ashlyn murmured easily now, looking at Ali, who managed a small smile, always content with knowing who was her priority. “Logan, Robin...” Robin was almost for sure the name of their future baby girl. They were pretty much set on Robin Tammye, but things could still change.

“They're okay,” Ali patted her big belly. “Doctor checked this one up, she's all right, we're all okay, everybody. Finley is having a play-date with the Dwyers, and Logan's at her school. The hurricane came and went, you've got nothing to worry about. How are you feeling?”

The hurricane came and went? When?

“Tired,” Ashlyn attempted a small squeeze of her hand, but her own felt weak. “Why am I here?”

“To be honest, Sis, we're not very sure ourselves,” said Chris, while her parents and Alex stood by the bed, watching her. “You went out before the hurricane to check on Marc Skinner, and over an hour later Ali decided to go find you, and found you in the street all beaten-up and injured. Police asked Marc if he had any idea what happened, but he said you were there ten minutes, gave him all the instructions he needed and hurried back home because you wanted to get there before the rain started because Finley's scared of thunder. Yet you never came home.”

“Looks like someone attacked you when you were walking home,” Ali explained then, softly. “However, it's been a week and police hasn't found any evidence yet. The hurricane damaged most street security cameras,and none of the okay ones are in our area, and there were no witnesses, so... it's possible they never arrest anyone. It's curious though; it wasn't robbery. You still had your phone, even if it's broken, and your wallet, that soaked, but had the money and cards and all. It wasn't... sexual... either.”

Ashlyn closed her eyes, feeling her head pounding with the information. Her eyelids felt swollen and she was just so tired.

“We should let her sleep for now,” her Dad said, and she felt his big, heavy hand patting her leg gently. “She's been through a lot.”

The former keeper had no time to hear anything else, because shortly, she was deep asleep.

Not being able to stay in the hospital the night, because Ashlyn's visits were restricted to day only due to an infection she was battling in her stomach, Ali returned home in the evening to find her son already home playing with Ali's parents, and despite her tiredness, smiled big when Finley caught sight of her and half ran, half stumbled to her shouting 'Mama!'.

“There you are, buddy!” Ali lifted him up, kissing him and holding him close over her belly. “How's my boy? Did you have fun today?”

“Mommy?” Finley asked, giving her his best puppy eyes. They were so much like Ashlyn's, that Ali felt a knot in her throat right away. He asked about her every day, and every day she had to lie to him.

“Hi love, how are things? Where are the Harrises?” Kenneth, Ali's Dad, came with Logan from the kitchen.

“They went on a walk to get some air, said they'd be here by dinner,” Ali explained to her father, reaching to kiss his cheek and pat Logan affectionately. “Ash is holding up, she talked a little bit today. I think she's coming around.”

“Good,” Ken looked relieved. “Your Mum and Kyle are changing Finley's crib sheets and will be right back.”

“Mama, Mama,” Finley impatiently patted Ali's cheek. “I want Mommy!”

“I know, Sunshine. Look,” Ali sat on the sofa with him on her lap, hugging him the best she could with her belly, “baby, Mommy is very sick. I didn't want to worry you, so I didn't say anything and I'm sorry, okay? But Mommy is sick in the hospital.”

“Hos-tal?” Finley frowned.

“No, darling, the hospital. Is a house for people who are sick. There are doctors there, that are people who take care of the sick ones so they get well. Right now, your Mommy is there so she can get well and come home. And she will come home. I promise you. I just don't know when.”

“I see Mommy,” said Finley, looking innocently at her. “Me give get well kiss!” Ali smiled warmly, kissing the top of her head.

“I know Finn, but right now it's better for you to stay here, so you don't get sick too, you know? I promise I'm giving her kisses from you. Right now I was just with her, I just came from visiting her and I gave her kisses from you. She asked about you too, and I told her you were playing with the Dwyers.” Finley nodded, saddened.

“Miss Mommy...”

“Me too,” Ali hugged him too. “Just some days more, and we'll have her back home with us.”

The next day, when Ali took Ashlyn's family back to visiting her, leaving her son with the Kriegers, she was surprised to find Ashlyn awake, looking a bit lost around herself. They locked eyes, and the former keeper smiled a little.

“Hi Babe,” Ali smiled back at her.

“Ash, how are you feeling darling?” Tammye rushed to her daughter, kissing the top of her forehead where it was less swollen and caressing her hair.

Ashlyn had let it grow a bit after cutting it all off a few years back, and now it was just long enough to reach the end of her ears, and was her natural dark brown with some blonde highlights. She liked to give her hair a bit of a blonde tone, because until she was six or so, she had had a blonde or dirty-blonde hair, just like it happened to Finley, so it felt natural to her. Her mother also had dirty blonde hair.

“Nurse said I got shot,” said Ashlyn while her father reached to squeeze her hand and her brother and Ali stood on the other side of her bed. “Apparently I got knocked on the head so I don't remember.” She slurred a little, drowsy. “How come I got shot, Alex?” Ali shrugged, helpless.

“I have no idea, Love. You went to visit Marc, and next I know I'm finding you bleeding out and suffering hypothermia collapsed on the street, in the middle of the rain, with the hurricane almost in Orlando. It was very, very scary, and we had lost power and also signal, so... I hadn't been able to contact you since you left. Marc has been worried sick as hell, he's been here a lot when you were still mostly out of things. He feels so guilty, but he has no idea what happened after you left his house either.”

“The doctor said you got shot from behind and then beaten-up. Looks like you maybe saw danger, ran away but were seen?” Mike suggested, looking concerned. But Ashlyn didn't know anything.

“I don't remember a thing,” Ashlyn sighed. “Not after I was cleaning-up the garden before the hurricane. And you tell me it's been a week from that?”

“You've been really sick, Ash... we thought... the doctors weren't sure you'd make it at first,” Ali explained cautiously. She didn't want to anguish her. “So you were under a lot of medication that made you very sleepy all the time, and not very aware of things. It's normal that you don't remember, you were sleeping most of the week, not to mention the concussion you sustained.”

Ashlyn nodded slowly, understanding things little by little and feeling a little more lucid.

“So the hurricane's gone. Everybody OK?” she asked then.

“Yes, sweetie,” Tammye reassured her. “Your Uncle had some water into the garage, Corey's store had a bit of damage in the roof, and my house flooded, but it's all fixed now, and nobody we know has gotten hurt. The south got the worst part, but Deb's flat is also okay.”

“Thank God... and my boy and Logan?”

“He was aligning all his dinosaur toys for a battle against the sharks with Kyle when I left,” Ali chuckled. “And Logan's loving playtime with him, you know it. He says he misses you, but I promised him I'll take him to visit as soon as the doctor allows. I told him you're just a little sick.” Ashlyn snorted a laugh.

“That kid is so cray...” she sighed. “I want to go home.”

“It'll have to wait, sis,” Christopher told her then. “Did the nurse tell you all there is?”

“Doc did,” Ashlyn said. “But my face looks great already, right?”

“Beautiful like the first day,” Ali assured leaning for a kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I'm sorry I'm stressing you with the baby and all...”

“Don't worry about that. My parents are here too, and with our whole family around and our friends, I'm getting so much help, and it's all right. None of this is your fault,” Ali caressed her cheek gently, careful not to hurt her.

There was a small horizontal cut with stitches below her left eye where they had to open to fix her cheekbone, and it looked yellow and purple, but at least her lip was back to normal size with just the cut, and the gash over her right eyebrow had a small bandage to cover the stitched wound. Her face was noticeably less swollen now.

“Doctor said they took parts of my stomach and spleen out, and the whole left kidney out, right?” Ashlyn commented. “How am I supposed to eat again?”

“People can live without stomach, and you still have most of it,” Mike half smiled at her. “You'll be fine! As soon as the doctor says it's good, we'll get you a big steak.”

“Yeah, you were very lucky other organs weren't affected. It was close to lungs and liver, and then it would've been much worse,” Tammye pressed her lips against the top of her head. “Are you thirsty or something? Can we get you anything?”

“No, thanks Mum. I think I'm just going to sleep another bit.”

“Between nap and nap, the body heals,” Ali kept a hand on her shoulder. “You rest, we'll be right here.”

“You all have jobs to attend, guys...”

“We'll be here,” Christopher insisted. “Don't worry about that,Ash.”

That same night, the doctor decided the infection had subsided enough to allow more visits starting the next day, so Ali encouraged the Harrises to return home to their jobs and duties, now that their friends could help her make sure Ashlyn was never alone during the day. It took a lot of convincing, but it was better for them. Life didn't stop because someone was hurt, Ashlyn was improving, and Ali would keep them informed. And besides, they could always drive up when they had free time for quick visits, as Satellite wasn't too far.

Even though Ashlyn didn't remember what she had dreamed all the other nights in the hospital, that night's dream was one she woke up remembering and confused from, in the middle of the night. She had been running home, with a deep feeling of emergency, and then she suddenly was in flames and had woken up, feeling like her skin was boiling hot for a few seconds until her body woke up completely.

“Everything all right?” Ali asked after she woke up from a similar dream, this time in the morning, and saw Ali sitting by her bed.

“Nightmare,” Ashlyn answered, tired.

“Ugh,” Ali had her elbows on the verge of the bed, and she took Ashlyn's left hand between her own and kissed it. As Ashlyn saw her hand by Ali's cheek and caressed it a little, she realized her knuckles were bruised.

“My hands,” Ashlyn raised her hands in front of her eyes. “My knuckles are all bruised.”

“You fought someone,” said Ali. “Police will figure it out. It's a matter of time. We don't live in a dangerous area, so it's all so odd...”

The bullet had gone, as Ashlyn's doctor had informed her the morning before during a check-up, in through Ashlyn's back muscles, piercing her diaphragm, then flying through her left kidney, piercing her pancreas and internal viscera, and then going through the lowest part of her stomach and coming out on the other side. Surviving something like that was miraculous, and recovery, difficult, long and painful. She still felt feverish as her body fought the ongoing infection, even when it wasn't as bad as she guessed it had been, and as she tried to sit up a little, her back and insides screamed in pain, and she winced and clenched her teeth. She had learned that the IV in her arm was to feed her until her digestive system was more recovered, and the clamp in her finger had a light that went through her finger, detecting her heartbeat and informing of it to one of the machines. How the bullet had missed ribs, lung, liver and intestines, when it could've ricocheted inside of her and destroyed it all, was a miracle.

“Easy there,” Ali kept her from moving more, although Ashlyn had already given up and flopped back against the pillows.

“What if I have to use the loo?”

“No, you don't,” Ali kissed her cheek tenderly. “There's a catheter for that. Bag is mostly empty at the moment.”

“You check my pee?”

“I check Finn's discharges and I check my wife's discharges. You rest, you need it. Thank God we've got good insurances, because this is going to take time.”

“Fuck, you're five months pregnant, how are we supposed to deal with all of this, Alex? You need me, you shouldn't be stressing...”

“There's nothing we can do about it, and it's not your fault. I'm taking care of myself, I'm doing my morning yoga and my evening meditation, taking my vitamins, taking things easy, and spending as much time with Finley as possible. When Robin comes, we'll figure it out, we have a big support team. You worry about yourself, and we'll take care of the rest.”

A knock on the glass door and Ali gestured for whoever it was to come in. Ashlyn was at a bad angle to see from there, so she was surprised to see Debbie and Kyle coming in, the latter holding Finley and his soft deer, Achilles, in one little hand. As they came to kiss Ashlyn and greet her properly, Abby Wambach, Alex Morgan, Heather O'Reilly and Sydney Leroux came in as well.

“We were going to bring get well presents, but they're not allowed, so we brought you a child,” Kyle smiled and Finley called for his Mommy and the latter almost broke in tears.

“Come here big boy!” Ashlyn grinned showing her dimple and raising arms to hold her baby boy, sitting him on her right side, where he wouldn't hurt her by accident.

“Mommy,” Finley lied wrapping his little arms over her chest and kissing her cheek soundly. “Good?”

“Oh, very good, that helps,” Ashlyn kissed the top of his head repeatedly, wrapping her right arm around him. “I missed you so much sweetie.”

“Go home,” Finley requested, looking up at her.

“Soon, okay?” Ashlyn caressed his face gently. She just loved her son so much her heart felt twice as big around him. “I can't wait to go home, but now I have to be here for a little longer.” Finley frowned, but snuggled against his mother with his soft toy, seemingly deciding he'll settle with what he could get.

“How's it going, girls?” Ali was hugged her friends and now the guests had found another chair and the sofa and sat around.

Since once Ashlyn had been stabilized and the hurricane had allowed for it, she had been airlifted to Orlando Regional Medical Centre, which was Central Florida's only Level 1 Trauma Centre, and the best prepared place for her critical injuries, the room was very nice and sort of luxurious. It was owned by Orlando Health, where they had their insurance, and it was a nice, squared room with huge windows, an en-suite bathroom, great views, an armchair, a comfortable-looking chair, and at the feet of the bed, a sofa, separated from the bed enough for even a wheelchair to have space.

  
  


  
  


 


	4. What if I'm gone

**Chapter 4: What if I'm gone.**

While the girls chatted a little, Abby was admiring the views, and Ashlyn stopped to check around as well, not having been awake enough the other days to really appreciate how nice it was. Most hospital rooms she had ever seen weren't even half as nice.

“What's that?” Finely asked pointing at all the machines.

“Decoration,” Ashlyn lied. “To make this place look more technological.” Finley looked confused, but nodded. He had just turned two late in August, almost a month before, and as much as Ashlyn hated lying to him, she knew he was too young and innocent to understand complicated things. He barely knew about thirty words.

“The girls are all so worried,” Hao sat on the edge of the bed, by her feet. “How are you doing?”

“Well, I'm so high with medication I barely feel the pain if I'm honest. I guess home it'll be worse. How come you came all the way here from South Carolina?”

“Why wouldn't I?” Hao snorted a laugh. “You're one of my best friends. Whit has been trying to come as well, but law students have it hard to skip things.”

“All the friends and fam from Satellite want to come too,” Ali commented. “Jamie as well. But the hurricane damaged things a bit, so they're going to wait a few days to make sure everything is settled down.”

“I'm so thankful yet at the same time, I don't want to disturb anyone's lives...”

“Great, you don't,” Debbie assured, standing by the bed. “Your family could only leave because they knew we'd look after you, and that's exactly what we'll do.”

“Thank you,” Ashlyn nodded, appreciative.

“You still don't remember anything, don't you?” Alex, one of her best friends for the past twenty years or so, inquired.

“No,” Ashlyn shook her head. “But shootings are odd in Altamonte Springs... maybe I saw a thief near the house and made the stupid decision to go after?”

“No,” Ali said. “You were out of our gated community, only a few streets from Marc's house. In the middle of an avenue, no houses close, just office buildings.”

“No one to see,” Kyle commented.

“What if,” Ashlyn looked at the ceiling, thoughtful, “whoever did it intended to kill me and now they go after” she looked at Ali, “you or...?” she gestured with her eyes towards their son.

“Police put a patrol car in our gated community, and its two officers walk up and down the street all the time. Security protection has also risen around the gate, just in case,” Ali explained. “Although police doesn't think it was something personal. They have the theory that you were in the wrong place in the wrong time, and got in the middle of some gang fighting or something by accident. They might've thought you were someone else. And then you were attacked because of that.”

“Why don't you grab the boy and go to Satellite until this gets sorted out?” Ashlyn suggested, filled with concern. “Get out of the danger zone.”

“And leave you here?” Ali shook her head. “No chance. We're fine, we're safe, okay? It'll be okay.”

“Alex,” Ashlyn grabbed her hand to pull her closer, until their noses almost touched, “I wasn't just randomly shot, okay? Whoever did it came to me, saw I was still alive, got a clear look of my face, that's been all over Orlando and Florida for years so I highly doubt they didn't know who I was, and instead of calling help, or running away, kicked my face until I passed out and they probably thought I was dead. They know who I am, and by now? They probably know I am alive. What if they come to finish me off and find all of you here? Or come home? Our address is in the White Pages!”

Ali's eyes went from hers to Finley, who had fortunately fallen asleep, tense. Then, she let a long sigh out.

“Babe, I get it, we should be worried, but police thought of all of that, I'm sure, okay? I've spoken with them, and news about you are being kept to a minimum towards the outside, there is a lot of security in this hospital, our in the corridor, they're making sure no one can come and hurt any of us again. They're contemplating every possibility and besides, if whoever's after this knows who you are, then they know you're from Satellite and will find us there. Here, we're safe. September 11th didn't happen twice, did it?”

“I guess you're right,” Ashlyn looked down at Finley, worried, and squeezed him closer with her tattooed arm. “I just feel so powerless sitting here unable to protect you.”

The former defended pushed down the railings the bed had on the sides, in one of the sides, so she could climb on the edge of the bed and wrap an arm around her family, finding the Southerner's lips.

“Warrior Princess, remember?” Ali side smiled softly. “It's going to be okay. Just wait.”

Hours later, the nurse told Ashlyn they could stop IV feeding and give her some soup if she wanted. Ashlyn didn't feel like eating at all, but seeing how thin she had gotten in a week, and knowing Finley would feel she was better if he saw her eating and putting a good face, she accepted, and was given a glass of juice and some light soup that was a bit tasteless, due to all her dietary restrictions. She ate while Debbie gave Finley his own food, and it almost felt like eating in family again. The guests went to have lunch and take Finley to the park afterwards, while Ali bought herself a pasta salad at the cafeteria and came to her bedroom to eat it, while Ashlyn was half dozing off.

As she ate, Ali sat in the perfect spot for Ashlyn to contemplate her while the sunlight enhanced her features. She had deep bags under her eyes, visible despite the mascara, eye-liner and foundation, and even though she was almost forty now, she still looked thirty and gorgeous to Ashlyn's eyes. She remembered their New Year's Eve Wedding as if it had been the day before, even though it had been almost four years now. Ringing the new decade by her side had felt so right, and now she was simply grateful to to be able to keep ringing new years with her. Looking at her there, with her tired brown tiger eyes focused on her food, her breasts grown from pregnancy, that big round belly, and that beautiful brunette hair back in a loose bun, she just felt head over heels in love.

“Whatya looking at?” Ali caught her, smiling softly at her. Ashlyn shrugged.

“I love you so much, Alex,” she said sincerely. The former defender looked tenderly at her, putting the food aside and getting up, walking to her. “I was just thinking how I thought I could never love anyone harder when we married,” said Ashlyn, as Ali's hand slipped into hers, “yet I can. I love you more now, after thirteen years together, than ever.”

“Good,” Ali leaned to kiss her softly. “I wouldn't want the only one all in love here.”

They smiled small against each other's lips and as Ali pulled away a little, sitting on the verge of the bed, she could see the storm behind Ashlyn's eyes, hear her brain going full speed.

“Alex, you should know... our lawyer has an updated testament, I check it annually, and there's also a copy in our stud-,”

“Stop it, you're okay, Ash, you're not going to-,”

“Swear it,” Ashlyn interrupted her, and Ali frowned lightly. “Swear this is not going to kill me. Swear I'll be just fine.” Ali gulped, and Ashlyn could only manage a tender half smile. She knew Ali would never lie to her, nor tell her things she wasn't absolutely sure they were objectively true. Not when it was about such important matters. “See? You can't.”

“I believe-,”

“It's not about what we want to believe. You don't tell a team that's losing 6 to nothing, with only seconds left of game, that they may still win. You tell them to at least try not to get scored on anymore, but as much as you want to believe they can't lose, you know, objectively, it's what's going to happen. And objectively, we know right now how bad this is. You think I don't feel the fever? That I don't think of how badly did I have to be to lose a week half unconscious?” Ali looked down and sighed. “This infection is controlled, but not gone, and it could not be the last one, not when I have a hole through my insides and my guts spilled inside in a giant bacteria party, and not when I've lost one organ and pieces of three.”

“But you're stabilized. You're getting better and better, we were even allowed to bring Finley, why would we get pessimistic at this point? You're clearly improving!” Ali complained, her voice getting hoarse from emotion. “We said forever, Ashlyn, not four years. You don't get to go.” She looked at her with tearful eyes, and Ashlyn felt terrible for being the reason for them.

“I know,” the younger woman nodded, “I know, and I intend to stay forever. Sixty years still wouldn't be enough. But... as much as I can lie to Finn and everyone else, I cannot lie to you, love. And I don't want you to lie to me. If there is the slimmest chance I don't make it, or I go home just to get a complication and still die, I _need_ to talk about it, because I _need_ to know you'll move forward with our kids. I will never rest in peace otherwise, Alex.”

Ali puffed, stood up and paced around the room before she finally nodded and returned to sit with her, taking her hand.

“I'll keep the team united,” Ali assured. “I'll raise Finley and Robin to be whatever they want to be, but happy above it all. I'll,” she took a deep breath, hurting just from the thought, “I'll tell them all about you. We'll stay in Orlando because it was always home, right? And whenever any of them wants to go to university, I'll make sure they can go wherever they want to go. I'll drive them to see schools and all, and I'll insist they have a high education. We'll go to the beach, we'll surf, we'll stay close to your side of the family,” she continued, her voice broken, “and I'll love them twice as hard. And we'll... we'll visit... you. Daily.”

A soft smile, and Ashlyn shook her head, taking her hand.

“Forgive me I did it behind your back, Alex, but I knew it'd make you so sad to think about it, and I just...” Ashlyn sighed. “Years ago I did all the paperwork to become a full donor. That means if I pass... the doctors will automatically make sure every part of me that can be donated, gets donated. And the rest, cremated and... you can add it to compost and use it to grow a tree in my honour or something uh?” Ali looked at her in shock. “I'm sorry,” Ashlyn quickly added, “but I wanted to be useful even if gone. I figured... maybe my death could buy someone time to say goodbye, you know? Or give them a second chance. Now there's less to give, but still, I'm sure they can still use plenty... and I didn't want to be in a cemetery. They're sad and lonely, and the idea that you'll come to visit and be somewhere so sad and lonely...” she shook her head, feeling herself getting emotional. “I rather you always feel I'm there, somehow. In the land you step on, in the breeze of wind that caresses your face, in the memories and the beach. Not going putrid in a box six feet underground. It's all in my testament. I updated when we found out Robin was on the way, so... she's included as well.”

They sat there in silence, assimilating things. Although Ali had never known of her wife's intentions to donate it all if she died young, it didn't quite surprise her. It impacted her, it shocked her, but it wasn't surprising. Every word she said was just so much her style, she didn't question those were her most honest wishes.

“Public school?” Ali asked in a murmur when she felt ready.

“Always.”

“Christian upbringing?”

“Spirited but free.”

“First partners?”

“Make them sweat cold,” Ashlyn chuckled at her, rubbing her own glassy eyes. Just thinking of all she might miss was a pain in the heart. Ali looked up and nodded, squeezing her hand.

“What if they don't like sports? What if they like... choir?”

“I'd love to hear them wherever I am. Whatever makes them happy will make me happy.” A tear slid down Ali's cheek and she rubbed it away, impatiently. Ashlyn pulled her closer like she had held their son before, and kissed the top of her head. “And if you ever meet someone else...”

“No chance in-,”

“Alexandra,” Ashlyn softly kissed her forehead. “Love is always good news. And you should always welcome it with open arms whenever it comes with honesty, with purity, with devotion and passion. I'll always be happy if someone makes it their mission in life to attempt to love you as hard as I do. And if you love them like you love me-,”

“As if that could happen.”

“Well, if it does,” Ashlyn caressed her face, “or maybe just similarly... I'll be happy you feel such wonderful things. I'll be happy every time you smile, every time you laugh, every time you manage to go on with life and accomplish all you ever wanted. I'll be thankful for anyone who helps you with those things. I won't feel betrayed or anything. And whenever you fall, whenever you're down... I'll do my best to help from beyond and take care of my family like I vowed to do. Even if you have kids with someone else... I'll consider them my family too. Anyone that brings positive things into your life will be my family too, or my friend.”

Ali trembled between her arms and she held her closer, tighter, even if she was starting to feel exhausted herself.

“I don't want to be eighty without you,” Ali sobbed out. “How am I supposed to be happy without... my best friend... my constant, my everything?”

“Because I will never leave you, or didn't I vow to stay?” Ashlyn gulped the knot in her throat and wrapped her closer, supporting her healthy cheek on the top of her head. “We have thirteen years of memories for you to carry forever with you. We have a wonderful son who has my eyes and my dimple. And the internet is full of me. So every time you miss me, you can look for me, and remember I'm here, somehow, and I want you to be happy. I'm in the sun, in the storms, I'm... I think when we die, we're just one with the universe. It'll go on without me, but somehow, with me, because I made it change forever, and a part of me remains. If I die, that just means I can't physically be here, but being doesn't just mean in body, right? We were always there even when we weren't even in the same country. You will go on, make me proud, rock life and be so happy, and so will our kids, and I'll be watching with the fullest of hearts... I'll see you grow old and wrinkly and still be the most gorgeous woman ever, and I'll see and protect our grandchildren the best I can, and keep a close eye on anyone who incorporates your life... and in eighty, ninety years from now... I'll be there, when you close your eyes for the last time. And we'll be together again.”

Ali snorted a laugh and half sobbed.

“If I marry someone else, won't it be a bit uncomfortable?” Ali joked-cried. Ashlyn smiled, closing her eyes and pressing her lips against her temple.

“How lucky you will be to be in love and be loved back, double, uh?” Ashlyn murmured. “And how lucky will I be to know I was a small part of so much good in your life. It doesn't matter if we're a threesome in the end, Alex. I'll still love you harder than ever, and I'll love them because they took care of you and loved you for me. We'll be the best fucking threesome in the afterlife, looking after our kiddos for eternity.”

“You won't leave without a fight, won't you?” Ali caressed Ashlyn's sleepy face. “You are going to come home and do your freaking best to recover, right?”

“Always. And you help me, Ali. Don't let me go without a fight.”

“I won't,” Ali observed as Ashlyn's too warm hands loosened their grip on her as she started to fall asleep, needing a nap.

“I'm a bit afraid,” Ashlyn whispered, her eyes closed.

“Me too,” Ali rubbed her eyes and nuzzled into Ashlyn's neck. “But it's okay. We'll be together. One way or another.” She felt Ashlyn nod, and shortly after felt her body relax and get a little heavy, and she, too, closed her eyes for a bit.

  
  


 


	5. Good news

**Chapter 5: Good news.**

When Ashlyn next woke up, she was surprised to find it was morning again, and she had slept almost 24h, but felt like a brand new person. Her room was filled with teasing friends and family on her ninth morning in hospital, and she couldn't help smiling at all the teasing and jokes about her ability to sleep for a hundred years. She had woken up right as one of her kind, attentive nurses was teaching Ali how to keep her wounds clean. She had one long horizontal wound under her women's sign tattoo and over the line the end of her left ribs formed, and the end of this wound touched with her elbow if she moved her arm closer to her body, so it was long. Then, she had a slightly smaller one in the back, in the lower left side, almost touching her spine. To avoid interrupting their hard task and because she didn't want to see the wound, she just smiled and did her best to follow instructions and stay unmoving as they put on clean bandaging and then the nurse checked her facial wounds and also carefully cleaned them.

“Good as new,” the nurse smiled as she finished, removing her plastic gloves. “And no fever today! Your organism really needed a good nap.”

“I do feel like a new person,” Ashlyn admitted, carefully sitting up a little by pressing the button of the bed control to have the upper part raised a bit more. “God I'm so hungry...”

“For real?” Ali looked at her surprised, grinning big.

“It's still a good hour for breakfast, white yoghurt with honey or a milkshake?”

“So eggs are out of the question, uh?” Ashlyn's lip curved into a small smile as the nurse snorted a laugh. “Yoghurt is good, thank you.”

“I'll bring it ASAP, and I'll get you some juice. It's important for you to get plenty of fluids in. By the way, last night we removed all the catheters so if you feel like going to the bathroom, let me know before you make a mess by accident.”

“In that case, can I go like, now?” Ashlyn was conscious that she hadn't put two feet on the floor in nine days, and specialist team had had to move her a little while she was out of things to avoid blood clots and other complications, but now she really needed to use the bathroom no matter who was in the other side of the wall.

“Okay, sure,” the nurse moved to grab Ashlyn's housecoat that, unbeknownst to her, was in the closet, and helped her put it on, making sure all the Ivs were removed and there were no cables attached in the moment, before helping her slowly sit on the side of the bed and then get up with a groan, throwing an arm over the nurse's shoulders. “There you are, slowly, good job.”

“I'm starting to miss the catheters,” Ashlyn pressed a hand against her frontal wound, slowly getting used to being on her too feet, and closing her eyes for a minute.

“The doctor decided it was a good idea to take them out once your fever disappeared, so you don't have a choice but to start moving. The sooner you're walking around, the sooner you'll recover.”

“Totes,” Ashlyn nodded, letting herself be guided to the bathroom. Every step felt like the world moved a little and her body couldn't quite hold her up. “Please don't let go.”

“I won't don't worry. Do you want your wife instead, though? A lot of people don't want nurses to clean their ass.” Ashlyn frowned for a moment. She did need to _completely_ use the loo, but she hadn't thought of that. However, standing up was so uncomfortable, she found herself not giving a shit. “I trust you Anna, do whatever you have to do.”

Luckily for her own embarrassment, her son made sure to keep the attention on him while she was in the bathroom. As she sat on the WC for some of the most disgusting moments of her life in which she really empathized with Ali's post pregnancy bathroom struggles, Ashlyn could hear the laughter in the room and Finley running-stumbling around. Her poor stomach was loose and she hadn't eaten solids in over a week, so it wasn't exactly pretty down there, but her nurse rubbed soothing circles on her back and gave her comforting words as she groaned and started feeling less like a brand new person and more like a fucked-up octogenarian.

“It's normal if there's a bit of blood,” said the nurse cleaning her with baby wipes once she was done, somehow managing for Ashlyn to not feel that much awkward about someone touching her private parts as she held onto the nurse for dear life. “More than a bit, not so much, so you'll have to call for help if it happens. Wanna wash your hair?”

“My hair?” Ashlyn croaked, leaning into her for support.

“Some patients feel better when they feel cleaner.”

“Yeah,” Ashlyn decided to go for it. “Good idea.”

She sat on a chair that the shower had inside and only had to throw her head back as the nurse shampooed her hair, cleaned it thoroughly, and blow-dried it, and magically, Ashlyn felt better. There was something about warm water straight to the head that was incredibly healing.

“Want to get into your pyjamas?” the nurse offered then.

“Pyjamas?” Ashlyn opened her eyes. “May I?” she added, surprised.

“Sure, we need to start getting you back into normal clothes. Just sit here and I'll ask Ali to get them.” She opened the door enough to call Ali and a few seconds later, she was back with one of Ashlyn's pyjamas, short-sleeved t-shirt and long-sleeved trousers, and Ashlyn was relieved to find they were her favourite, softest pyjamas, although she rarely used long-sleeved trousers in Florida. They were old, and the t-shirt had a shark, while the trousers were simple light grey ones, and Ali had also put some of her house socks, of those that had anti-sliding sole.

She got dressed slowly and carefully, allowed for her hair to be a half mess, and with the nurse's help, made it back to the bedroom, where Finley was playing trucks on the floor with Sydney, Tobin and Abby while Ali, Alex, Hao, Megan, Kelley and Christen were chatting. The only other man in the room, Kyle, was on the floor with his nephew as well.

“Looking hot!” Ali grinned, approaching Ashlyn and putting her arms around her hips to support her as they kissed, taking over from the nurse. “Feeling better?”

“Let's just say I get every single bathroom complaint you've ever made,” Ashlyn buried her face in her neck.

“I'll bring that yoghurt,” the nurse said. “Feel free to move around, but carefully, all right?”

“Thank you Anna.”

“Yeah, thank you loads!”

Ashlyn decided she was sitting on a normal sofa, hugging herself a little as things hurt when moving, and glad she had her wedding band tattooed in her finger so she didn't have to miss the actual ring much. She knew jewellery wasn't a good choice for hospital patients, as it could get lost.

“Mommy, pway!” Finley ran to her with a truck toy he ran over her knee. His walking and running was still a little floppy, but he had been fast to get moving. Even as a baby, he had always been hard to keep quiet in one spot.

“Mommy has little energy for playing, love, but I'll happily be your road,” Ashlyn buried a hand in his soft hair and kissed his cheek. “How come you guys are here? What about the NWSL final?”

“Came and went,” Kelley said. “Utah won!”

“Yay!” Christen, her teammate, raised her fists in celebration. “We were dying to come around though, you've had us worried sick!” Ashlyn smirked, nodding.

“Congratulations!” she said, although she was a little stung her Pride hadn't recovered the title this year round. Then all of the sudden, Finley started crying hard, in the way that Ashlyn knew it wasn't crocodile tears, although he used those very rarely. “Hey, what's wrong?” Ashlyn lifted the boy to sit on her knees and hugged him close against her healthy right side. Ali frowned and sat next to them, caressing the boy's back.

“Are you hungry, love?” Ali asked him, worried. “Want some juice? Want Achilles?” He shook his head and buried his face on Ashlyn's shoulder, muffling his intense crying. Anna, the nurse, came quickly, yoghurt and juice comically in her hands and a worried expression that the others also had.

“What's wrong?” Anna asked. “I can get him anything he needs.”

“I don't know,” replied Ashlyn, keeping a hand on the back of his head along with her cheek, and another on his back. “He was just playing...”

Anna pursed her lips in thought.

“Did you play much with him before, Ashlyn?”

“All the bloody time, and with the dog. We're always running up and down...”

“Then there you have it. He probably doesn't understand what's happening and feels a little abandoned. Happens a lot when parents are in the hospital, even more with only children who don't have a sibling to get entertained with. Why don't you try showing him you've got a boo-boo so he knows why you can't run around? I mean, I'm no expert, but I've got three kids myself and here in the hospital, we have these things weekly,” she half smiled warmly, and put the yoghurt and juice on the bed-table. “And here's breakfast when you're ready. Call me if you need anything.”

Ashlyn and Ali exchanged a concerned look and Ali shrugged, giving her permission to do whatever she thought was best.

“Okay, Finn, if you stop crying we can talk, uh?” Ashlyn kissed his head giving him a gentle squeeze. “I can fix anything if you tell me the problem, sunshine. Anything, I'll fix it.”

The two-year-old separated, sniffling with snot covering his mouth, his face reddened from the effort, and his eyes filled with tears, his cheeks wet. He was always tragic when he cried.

“You,” Finley sniffled, “leave us a-and,” he hiccuped, and Ashlyn took a tissue Sydney handed her and cleaned his face gently. “We not play! I-I want home...” a few silent tears slid down his cheeks and Ashlyn cleaned them again before bringing him in for another hug, closing her eyes and gulping the knot in her throat as she kissed the top of his head.

“I thought he was fine...” Ali whispered, feeling incredibly guilty.

“It's okay,” Ashlyn assured her. “He's never had one of us be in hospital, it's okay.”

“Poor thing,” Tobin sighed sadly, looking at him.

“Finley, look at me, okay buddy?” Ashlyn said softly, leaning to look at him in the eyes as he looked up. “I'm very, very sorry things are not like always and we can't play together, and you are with everyone but Mama and I. I'm sorry. I promise Mama is going to be around more often, right?”

“Yeah, tomorrow we'll do whatever you want, me and you, okay?” Ali smiled warmly, her heart broken inside, and leaning to kiss their son.

“We pway ball!” Finley got excited, rubbing his face. “You pway ball, you pway ball, Lowan pway ball, me pway ball,” he punctued with one finger pressing against each person.

“You and I can play ball all you want, and Logan too,” Ali agreed, nodding. “But honey, Mommy's sick, remember? I told you we have to take care of her, and she can't play for a while.”

Finley scowled and crossed arms over his chest almost comically, looking down. Ashlyn easily unfolded them and took his hands in her bigger ones.

“Buddy, I want to play with you more than anything else, you know?” he looked up at her, confused. “I don't want to be here anymore than you do. I want to go home. And I want to play with you and Logan and Mama, and run back and forth, and play in the pool. It's not funny here. I'm bored, and I'm tired, and I want to play with you and I can't. You wanna know why I can't?”

The boy shrugged.

“Sick,” he murmured.

“Yeah, you know what that is?” he shrugged. They had told him a million times, but the wonders of two-year-olds meant they forgot everything that wasn't really interesting for them. “Okay, what if I tell you I have a boo-boo?”

“Boo-boo?” Finley opened his eyes wide and looked worried, which told her he remembered that. After all, as an earthquake of a child, he had gotten a fair share of those. He just got it after Ashlyn.

“Look,” Ashlyn pointed to the wounds in her face, “one boo-boo, two boo-boos, and,” she lifted her shirt to show him the large bandage, and his eyes widened, “three boo-boos. Woah, right? Mommy has three boo-boos!”

“Ouchy,” Finley said, and leaned to kiss the bandage like he knew to do, kissing boo-boos better. Ashlyn grinned, kissing him in response. “Me help!”

“You did help, Finn, thank you,” Ashlyn squeezed his cheek lovingly. “But unfortunately, my boo-boos are big, and I cannot go home and play until they heal-up and go away.”

“When boo-boos go away we pway?”

“Yes.”

“Me help they go away.”

“You wanna help?” Ashlyn asked, and he nodded firmly. “Then, you have to take care of Mama and Logan for me. You have to give them many kisses every day, okay? For me.” Finley nodded seriously. “And you have to play a lot, and think of everything we are going to do when I'm home. And we'll do it all when I go home. Look,” Ashlyn showed him her hospital bracelet, “when this is off, I can play again, okay?” Finley nodded.

“I help,” he compromised.

“You will be a huge help, my love,” Ashlyn hugged him again. “I'll be home soon. Just a few more days.”

“Finney,” Ali patted Finley's back softly. “Wanna help Mommy devour her yoghurt?”

“Me help!” they laughed at Finley's interest, and Ashlyn grabbed the yoghurt for them to eat together.

“So what's the goss?” Ashlyn asked their friends as Finley stuffed her mouth and part of her face with yoghurt.

Later that day, after spending several hours with Finley home to improve his mood, Ali came back in the evening alone to find Ashlyn just chilling in bed on her own, half napping half staring at the ceiling. She was feeling somewhat better, and looked at Ali, surprised to see her there as the room was only illuminated by a lamp.

“Finley is asleep,” Ali explained. “He passed-out with Uncle Kyle.”

“Those two are such a pair,” Ashlyn smiled as the former defender sat on the verge of her bed and they held hands. “How's our baby girl?” she added, caressing Ali's belly.

“She's all right. And so am I. Kicking every now and then, giving me nap time other times...” Ali shrugged. “Easier baby 2 than baby 1. How're you?”

“I'm fine, I was just... trying to remember something. And I realized PTSD is coming up. A nurse dropped a tray in the corridor and I jumped up to the ceiling.”

The brunette woman pouted a little and leaned to peck her lips.

“We'll make sure you get the right help when you're home.”

“What happened, Alex?” Ashlyn inquired. “The night I was attacked. You said you found me.”

“Yes,” the other woman took a deep breath, thinking of how it was best to talk about something so delicate. “I had gone to find you, because I was growing more and more worried. The weather had gotten so bad the sky was just black clouds, so it was dark and flooding with water, there was thunder, there was lightning, the worst wind... the street was covered in fallen branches, light posts and street signs, and some trees even fell down. It was very scary, and I knew if you were out, you were in danger.”

“My brave, protective wife,” Ashlyn looked proudly at her.

“Nothing you wouldn't have done. When I found you, you were soaked to the bones, unconscious and barely breathing. You were bleeding so much, but the water cleaned it all constantly. I pulled you into the car and wrapped you in towels I had taken with me, but then I thought it was too dangerous to try to take you to the hospital, and I hadn't had time to check you were that badly injured, I thought someone had just tried to rob you and beaten you up. I thought between Mum and I, you'd be fine... at home we realized how bad it was, and that it wasn't a robbery, because although broken, your phone was still in your pocket, and your wallet with it all. So my Mum insisted she'd drive you to that hospital nearby, because she didn't want me, pregnant, to risk my neck. We had no power, no signal or anything, so it was hours until we could phone each other and I knew you were okay. Once you were stabilized, and when the weather allowed, they took you here in helicopter to get the last few surgeries and complete your recovery.”

The short-haired woman squeezed her hand softly, and looked at her with admiration.

“You're absolutely amazing. And you're right. I'd do anything for you. Thank you for having my back.”

“Always.”

“So... what went public about me?”

Then, Ali told her everything else. She told her how in the first day with her in the hospital, only police, their families and Marc were informed and interrogated. They were asked to keep things under wraps, but three days after the attack, a stranger told the internet they had seen Ashlyn in the ICU in the hospital, and that she looked to be dying. Many fans dismissed it, but still, crowds started to gather outside the hospital, and it drew in the press, that eventually figured out Ashlyn was indeed a patient. That was when Ali managed for Ashlyn to be given her own room a few floors above, where the press, photographers and curious fans wouldn't get to her, and police put extra security both in their area and in the hospital.

Police had then decided that even though secrecy was great to make their investigation easier, the more they had, the more it provoked the contrary effect; it called attention, when they wanted the exact opposite. Fans picked-up on the family's silence, the way no player, not even Kyle who was always so public, had said anything nor moved a finger to end the rumour that Ashlyn was in critical condition in the hospital for unknown reasons. They were gathering in Altamonte Springs, along with the paparazzi, and around the hospital, thirsty for information, and not letting them work anyway. It didn't make sense to maintain the secrecy anymore.

Because of this, on the sixth day after the attack, Ali published a statement online that she could now show Ashlyn in all her social media;

' _With a heavy heart, I'm telling you today that the rumours regarding my wife Ashlyn's health aren't completely false. On September 8_ _th_ _, during the hours before the Hurricane Joel made touchdown in Miami, and while Orlando was suffering heavy storms, Ashlyn left the house to check on a friend real quick, and she never returned home._

_Eventually, she was found out critically injured, and she's now in Central Florida's Level 1 Trauma Centre to get all the surgeries and full treatment her critical condition needs for her to survive. We have no clue what might have happened to her, all we know is she has a really bad bullet wound and other, not-so-critical injuries. Therefore we'd like to encourage anybody who was in Altamonte Springs that day and has any valuable information to call Orlando Police and give it to them._

_In the meantime, I need to ask you to respect not just Ashlyn, myself and our son's privacy, but also the privacy of both of our families, and particularly the Harris – Habovick side. We're all dealing with a lot right now. Ashlyn is someone's granddaughter, daughter, sister, wife, cousin, friend or mother, and every time you crowd around our houses, neighbourhoods, or the hospital, you are making the tasks of the police and medical services harder and harder, affecting negatively the lives of other people who come to the same hospital for help, and invading the privacy of Ashlyn's family and friends, complicating our already currently complicated lives, and making this harder for us than it already is._

_Please step back. Stop your thirst for information, let the professionals work so patients can be helped properly and so we can find whoever is going around Altamonte Springs shooting people, this is IMPORTANT. Your curiosity and gossiping can and needs to wait. And as we, family and friends, navigate these really difficult times, it's really disrespectful to be on us all the time in the internet and out of it harassing with following us, bombarding with questions, and everything. Please, I know some of you are smart enough and civil enough to not to need being told any of this, but I still say it, for those who don't know boundaries._

_I will update you when I see appropriate and in the way that seems better and that police allows me to do. For now I can only say Ashlyn's had a significant amount of surgeries and is already amazing doctors with her strength and toughness, so we have high hopes to have her back. She needs all the calmness she can get to rest well and recover fast, and she's just been put in her own room, so it seems like she's doing better very slowly, baby steps._

_Thank you for your support. -Ali._

  
  


 


	6. I'm bulletproof

**Chapter 6: I'm bulletproof.**

Around the twelfth day post-shooting, Ashlyn started really needing to make an effort to stay put and strong, as the doctor had progressively been retiring all the medications that kept her numbed and relaxed and now she was fully aware not just of her surroundings, but of her inner pain. Sleeping became a challenge, nightmares were frequent, and pain was hard to manage, even more when she was so obsessed about not becoming addicted to painkillers, that she'd reject any med unless she was really struggling hard.

“Just left Finney in nursery school,” Ali commented coming into Ashlyn's room and kissing her softly as the short-haired woman sitting up against a bunch of pillows on her bed, reading. “He's much better, we took him to the zoo yesterday evening and today he was saying how he couldn't wait to see all his friends again and tell them about all the animals he's seen.”

“He's the best dude ever,” Ashlyn chuckled, putting her book aside and bringing Ali closer for a proper snog, now that her lip was pretty much healed.

“Dude, this is a hospital, not a hotel,” Pinoe smiled, entering the room with Hao, Tobin and Christen. Ali abruptly separated and rolled eyes, smirking.

Ashlyn's friends from Satellite, family, Pride ex-teammates, and USWNT friends had been visiting every day, at any given moment. Marc often came in the evenings, and Satellite people often came in the afternoon or weekends, but there was always one visit in the room. At night, the doctor had just started to allow for a family member to stay, but since Ali was so heavily pregnant, the task usually was left in the hands of their parents and brothers, who took turns.

“How's it going, Ash?” Tobin asked, standing between the bed and a chest of drawers whose upper surface was filled with flowers, get-well cards, and other get-well presents. “You look tired.”

“I'm sleeping like crap, but at least I'm eating a little more,” Ashlyn sighed. “It's just so frustrating, I know my nightmares are PTSD and hence if they could just be a little clearer I'd know who attacked me, but... they're just utterly confusing.”

“How so?” Hao inquired. They were all wanting to help however they could.

“Well, seems like my brain is metaphoric as fuck. Like last night, I'm swimming in the pool and suddenly a shark appears and doesn't matter how much I swim away, I can never reach the end of the pool and wake-up before I'm eaten. Obviously it screams running from something dangerous, but what? What did I see that made me run from it and then get shot?”

They all looked deep in thought, trying to figure it out. Police was stuck as well. The hurricane had taken away all the evidence, so that even if Ashlyn, who had clearly punched back, had made her attacker bleed, that blood was far gone, with all the evidence it represented.

“Perhaps the real question is what sort of thing could you have seen,” Ali commented, sat on the verge of the bed with her hands around her grown belly. “You didn't witness a murder, because no murders have been reported in Orlando this month, I checked. And anything else just doesn't seem big enough for someone to want to kill the witness, right?”

“Right,” Ashlyn nodded. “So maybe I didn't witness anything?”

“What if your shooter didn't get to commit the crime?” Pinoe suggested. “What if they were about to, then saw you, thought you saw more than you did, and ran after you with a gun? Then you run away, and get shot.”

“Wait, but it is possible that Ash was the target the entire time,” said Tobin. “Look at JFK or Martin Luther King, or John Lennon. Perhaps you've got a crazy fan, and you caught them about to shoot you, so you tried to run away and got shot from behind. Then they come after you to finish the job, you were conscious enough to fight a little, but they knock you out and when they think the job's done, they leave. You could've easily been followed, with the storm you wouldn't have been paying attention to that.”

Ashlyn nodded slowly, thoughtful. All theories were somewhat plausible, so in the end she was just as confused.

“That is if we assume Ash didn't piss anyone off enough to kill her,” Hao offered then.

“Who'd want to kill Ash? She's just a former goalkeeper,” Ali inquired.

“Uhm...” Tobin shrugged. “Maybe's a long shoot, but didn't your family do drugs? Could it be some drug gang that doesn't like losing clients?”

“Pff...” Ashlyn let a long sigh out. “I can't imagine any of the drug sellers I know in Central Florida following anyone and killing them. Besides, doesn't it make more sense that it was someone I didn't know? I mean, hurricane or not, we must've been the only two people out in the street. Why would someone risk being recognized so much?”

“It's also possible that you did know the attacker but as a friend, maybe you guys even stopped to talk, and when you turn around, they shoot you. And then they see you're moving, so beat you up,” Hao suggested.

“Okay, we all have seen far too much CSI,” Ali smiled softly, “and I can smell brains burning. Police will figure it out. You ought to rest,” she moved some hair away from Ashlyn's hair and pecked her lips softly, “we'll worry about the rest.”

“You should probably tell the fans I'm alive,” Ashlyn murmured, nuzzling into Ali's side, sleepy, and putting a hand on her belly where she could feel their daughter kicking a little.

“Maybe you can do it yourself,” Ali kissed the top of her head, burying a hand in her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

When Ali left the hospital at lunch time to get Finley from nursery and have lunch together, and she was driving away with a bit of difficulty due to her belly putting some extra distance between herself and the steering wheel, the journalists were patiently waiting outside the parking, but lately they were just calm, telling her to send their love to Ashlyn, which was sweet.

“How's she doing, Ali?” a journalist asked as she had to stop in a red light just outside the parking lot.

“She's remarkably better than a week ago, chatting and all,” Ali smiled at him. “She's very thankful for all the love she's getting. We both are.”

“Great! And how are you with the baby, Ali?”

“I'm well,” Ali nodded. “Sorry guys, gotta pick-up my boy.”

In the afternoon, Ashlyn's brother, and her cousins Corey and his wife Brittany came to visit, along with her friend Liz, Alex Morgan, Kyle, Finley, Ali, Sydney, Hao, Pinoe, Christen, Kelley and Tobin, so the room was quite packed, but she was grateful nevertheless. For the first time, she had managed a shower with the help of nurse Anna, and although she felt exhausted and every movement felt like she had a giant hole in her abdomen, not to mention her head wasn't quite there yet and she got dizzy and was slow on reaction and coordination, between other small issues, she was happy to have visits, to receive newspapers to read and catch-up with the world, and get her daily dose of gossip while she ate some apple with Finley.

“We got you a new phone!” Christopher announced excitedly giving his sister a brand new I-Phone, latest model available, and very alike the one she had had, with a similar case and colour, so it felt more familiar.

“Thanks Chris!” Ashlyn chuckled, turning it on.

“Same passwords as the other one,” Ali added, sitting next to her on the bed so Ashlyn was sandwiched between her son and wife, and not minding it one bit.

“I took it to my friend Jeff, made sure it has all the apps, same number, and everything, and he saved your memory card, so you haven't lost your stuff.”

“Give him my love,” said Ashlyn, excitedly browsing through her phone while munching the last of his apple and keeping an arm around Finley so he wouldn't fall off the bed, where he was colouring in one of his colouring books, an activity they could do together. Jeff was an old friend of them who was pretty much the wizard of technologies, but lived in Satellite, where he had his shop. “Jesus Christ, I've got like billions of notifications everywhere...” Ashlyn commented amazed and scared in equal parts. “Literal billions, what am I gonna do?”

“People are worried,” said Corey, comfortably sitting on the sofa with his wife. “There are rumours that you're dead, even. You know how cruel bastards can be.”

“We do tell the journos you're great every single time we come,” Kyle commented. “But people online, you know...”

“All right,” Ashlyn nodded. “No problem. We'll show them I'm alive and perf-,”

“Wait,” Ali stopped her, “do we want to? I mean, if whoever attacked you doesn't know how exactly you are, perhaps it's better, right.”

“They'll know in a week when I'm discharged,” Ashlyn shrugged. The doctor had been saying that it could maybe be one week more or so, but not much more than that. They were mostly keeping her in due to the risk of infections, and the need to daily monitor her brain and abdomen with tests that carried on daily. “Besides, if I was really dead, people wouldn't be coming to visit. Chris, have the honour of using this camera for the first time and take us a good fam pic, please.”

Ali decided that her wife was right and kept an arm over her lap while crossing the other over her chest to hold Ashlyn's face softly and kiss her cheek as the Southerner smiled trying to look her best, and keeping an arm around Finley, who was too busy colouring to care about pictures.

“Only you can possibly look pretty under these circumstances,” Chris snorted a laugh, handing her phone back. Ashlyn whistled in approval checking the photo. Finley's face was hidden enough, leaning towards the colouring book on her lap, Ali looked gorgeously huge, and she managed not to look too pale and too thin, even though the reality of the situation was she had lost a ton of pounds and was almost as colourful as her white and blue hospital sheets. The fact that she was wearing her pyjamas, IV free, and her hair looked almost on point, helped bring her best side.

While her friends and family chatted away, Ashlyn sat Finley between her legs to make sure he didn't fall, and held her phone with both hands to publish the photo to her accounts.

' _Hard to feel too bad when I'm surrounded by the best people. Thank you everyone for all the love, and kudos to all the medical team that are keeping me happy and cared-for. Promise I'm doing my best to get well vvv soon! Finley's demanding play time, after all... #MiniBoss #Thankful_

 _PD: Isn't my wife hella hot?_ '

Her photo was very well received by the fans, but she didn't get to see much of it, because she fell asleep shortly after, with a blue crayon still held in her hand as she had been colouring with Finley, and her forehead on Ali's upper arm. Her mind and body just needed frequent mini naps, many of them usually catching her by complete surprise.

Soon, she was in a world that wasn't her own. Ashlyn saw herself in the middle of a big soccer field, but there was no one around, no players, no public in the stands.

“Hello?!” she shouted, looking around. “Alex?!” she had a feeling of danger and fear suddenly in her heart. Looking down, Ashlyn saw her familiar K-Harris goalkeeping gloves, her married surname abbreviated to fit in the gloves, and she was surprised to find she was in full gear.

“Mommy!”

Ashlyn looked up with urgency as she heard a sharp scream, and saw a little brunette standing at the tunnel entry, shouting for her.

“Robin!” She didn't know how she knew, but that was her daughter. However, a dark figure appeared and grabbed her, pulling her into the tunnel as the little girl screamed and cried. “ROBIN!”

She ran after her, far into the tunnel, with her heart drumming in her chest, as she heard repeated screams for 'Mommy!' echoing in the corridors. Suddenly there were stairs descending in circles into a giant well. She jogged down the stairs into the dark well, until abruptly, the stairs ended in a railing. And then, in front of her, there was a giant lake filled with piranhas, and her wife and two human kids hung from their ankles, their bodies being lowered closer and closer to the water as they screamed at her to help them.

“ALEX! ALEX! KIDS!”

“Them or you,” a growl-like voice said behind her. She turned around to see a dark figure holding a gun up. She looked back at her family and heard a bang, screams, and everything went back.

Ashlyn woke-up from her nightmare with a choked scream and sat up in bed breathing heavily, crashing against something from the fast movement and then groaning in pain as she gripped her side.

“Easy there, Ash,” Ali's voice came around and she realized she had crashed against her wife, who was leaning over her and now helped her lie back down, scrutinizing her with worried eyes.

“Alex, Alex,” Ashlyn started sobbing, still not quite awake. “The kids, Alex, the kids...”

“It's okay,” Ali soothed her, caressing her face and keeping a free hand on her shoulder so she wouldn't hurt herself moving around. “They're fine, Ash, we're all right, it was just a dream.”

“No, Robin, Finley... where's Finn? Where is he?!” Ashlyn looked around, anguished and worked-up, her eyes filled with tears.

“They're fine, love, listen to me-,”

“No, where? Where? Finn, he's gonna get hurt, you have to-,”

“He's fine,” Ali said more firmly, bringing her to look at her. “Look at me. It was a nightmare. Kyle and Chris took Finn to the park, and he's all right, they just left a minute ago, they're probably not even out of the lift yet. Breathe.” Ashlyn took a deep breath, wincing as her insides hurt.

Ashlyn looked at Ali, her pregnant belly and her worried eyes, and realized it was all definitely a nightmare. Robin was safe inside of her, and Finley was in good hands with his uncles. She had fallen asleep on the bed, that was all.

“You okay, Pookie?” their friend Allie Long was around, with Abby, Kelley, Christen and Pinoe, and they all looked worried at her.

“I'll be fine when I strangle the son of a bitch who put me here,” Ashlyn clenched her teeth and sat up, holding onto her side. “You good? Robin?” she asked Ali, cupping her belly with her free hand.

“We're all right,” Ali assured her, wrapping her arms around her and pressing a kiss against the top of her head. “You were screaming like crazy, what was it about?” Ashlyn shook her head.

“I saw him, he was right there...”

“He?” Abby inquired.

“Or she. I don't know,” Ashlyn admitted, frustrated. “They were right there, I could almost touch them...”

“And you couldn't see them?” Ali asked.

“No, they were... black, like a shadow. With a pistol. Give me pen and paper,” Christen found a small notebook and a pen in her purse and handed them over, so Ashlyn quickly started drawing what she had seen, using her great artistic skills. “It was tall...” she drew the silhouette, darkening it with the pen. “Not fat... and the voice, the voice...” she closed her eyes, trying to remember. “Deep, like underwater...” she murmured to herself, writing notes on a side of the paper.

“Even if you note down everything you saw and heard, how can you know it was accurate? It was a nightmare, your brain made it,” Kelley reasoned, leaning to see what she was writing.

“None will be accurate into itself, but perhaps, when I put several of them together there are common denominators, things that in the end tell me who was it. I saw them. I know I saw them, they couldn't punch my face without looking at me in the eye, right? And that memory is in here somewhere, trying to get out.”

“Babe, I understand you really need to do this, but you should be resting, you hurt your head...”

“I didn't hurt my head, Alex, someone hit my head with something hard enough to split the skin open,” Ashlyn argued frustratingly. “I need to self-discharge, go home and figure out...”

“You're not going to self-discharge, are you nuts? The doctor said one more week-,”

“In one week, you all could be dead!” Ashlyn looked pleadingly at her filled with powerlessness. “They'll go and kill you all while I'm here, helpless.”

Ali could see how worried and frustrated her wife was, and how powerless she must be feeling, and decided to be compassionate. She worried about the situation too, and she wanted nothing but for whoever had attacked her to be in prison, but she also knew it wouldn't help if Ashlyn returned home too soon and got worse. So she lovingly caressed the younger woman's cheek and shook her head.

“You can't leave, love. I'm in no position to take care of you properly with a five-months pregnancy, and you can't take care of yourself either. Doctor said it'd be a year of recovery at least, and that you had to take it easy and slow, baby steps, or else you'd make things worse, is that what you want? Come home too soon and get worse? Because that doesn't help us at all, don't you think?”

The Southerner's shoulders slumped.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You stay, you take care of yourself, and you trust me. I will take care of this family, okay? But you have to let me and stop getting so anguished. Look, Kyle can take some time off work, and he's going to be here and stick around to help, and your brother took a compassionate leave at work so he can drive here every day. Police is stuck to our doorstep day and night, and our family takes turns with Finley, so he's never much at home anyway. He'll be fine. And I'm here most of the time, so I'm safe as well. And in any case, the chances of a second attack are minimal, now they know they managed to get away for now, so they won't risk getting caught. They know you don't remember a thing, so no reason to finish you off and risk getting caught, and there's no reason to hurt us either. We need you here, safe and where doctors can make sure you're all right, Ashlyn.”

Ashlyn nodded slowly, putting the notebook away.

“Come on, Ash,” Abby stood up to accommodate her pillows. “Lie back and relax. You know how these things are, the less you think of something, the sooner it'll come to mind.”

“No, uh...” Ashlyn looked at her watch, that she was wearing once again. It wasn't even dinner time yet. “I'd like to walk around a little. Can't we go to the patio or something? I miss the fresh air.”

“Okay, let me grab your housecoat,” Ali allowed, getting up.

Although standing up was still a bit of a challenge for Ashlyn, she almost cried when her friends managed to help her get to the patio the hospital had, feeling the sun on her skin and the fresh air for once. She had gotten so pale without the sun, she was just glad to be out, even if she needed an arm firmly wrapped over Abby Wambach's shoulder to stand-up, not wanting to support on her pregnant wife. It wasn't like her legs didn't work, more like every time she stood it felt like her back and torso just couldn't hold her up.

“It'll be okay, Shelly,” Abby winked at her. “Wait and see...” Ashlyn nodded slowly, looking up at the sky. Wait and see.

  
  


  
  


 


	7. Home is where the heart is

**Chapter 7: Home is where the heart is.**

The remaining week of Ashlyn's hospital stay was slow and tiring, and it was also all that was needed for Ali to reach her six-months pregnant milestone. The former goalkeeper was anxious, nervous and distraught most of the time as her Post Traumatic Stress Disorder hit her hard. The difference with other people's PTSD was that in most cases, PTSD made you feel on alert about a non-existent danger that the victim felt very real, while in Ashlyn's case, it was real. Police kept investigating, but truth was with no evidence nor witnesses, the case was not going to advance, even after having interrogated at least a hundred people between their neighbours, family and friends. And with the threat being real, it was hard for Ali and Ashlyn to rest properly, their brains always in high-alert, but Ashlyn, who also got every nightmare and every other PTSD symptom, adding those of her injuries, got the worst part of it.

In a matter of three weeks in the hospital, the Florida-native had lost twelve pounds, grey shadows adorned her eyes, and her skin was pale and greyish. She could walk and use the bathroom on her own, even though at times she was still in pain, but she had medication, a special diet, and scheduled therapy appointments, to keep her going.

She returned home on the last Friday evening of September, accompanied by her wife. The minute Ali opened the front door, Logan, who was now closer in size to a tiger than to a dog, being five years old, ran to them and Ashlyn had to squat to hug her for the dog, that had started barking and crying at once, to calm down. Ali observed cupping her belly and smiling at the pair, locking the door after them.

“Hi Logan, I missed you!” Ashlyn smiled hugging the distraught dog. “Sh... calm down my love, calm down, Momma's here.” She stood up once the dog was good to go, and followed Ali, who carried her hospital bag, into the house, where Ashlyn was surprised by a giant 'Welcome Home' placard hung from the ceiling and her family, from grandma Eunice Harris to her cousin Cassidy Habovick, that spread in the open-plan house, between the dining area, the kitchen area and the living area.

“Welcome back!” the family proclaimed happily.

“Wow, guys, thanks...” Ashlyn smiled a little, and received a hug from her beloved Grandma Eunice, who was now ninety years old, her birthday being just days after Finley's.

“I'm so happy you're home, love,” her grandmother said as they embraced.

“Me too, Nana. You know me, I'm hard to beat,” as they separated, Ashlyn looked around, reacquainted with the house. It had a lot of big windows, and they called her attention right away. They looked incredibly clean and new, even though their window cleaner came once a month, because they were so big, reaching up to the very tall ceiling, that a professional was needed. “Those windows look nice, I don't think I ever saw them so clean.”

“That's because they're new. Every window and the door's glass,” Ali happily announced, picking Finley up from Kyle's arms.

“New?” Ashlyn looked surprised. “Why?”

“I decided to substitute all the glass for bulletproof one and give you a surprise. I thought you'd like it, given the circumstances, so we can feel safer.”

“Alex, for real?” Ashlyn grinned, immediately feeling a little bit less vulnerable and exposed. “This is great! Thank you Babe.” Ali pecked her lips and even though Ashlyn wasn't allowed to hold things as heavy as Finley, she got him close enough for Ashlyn to hug him proper. “Hi my boy!”

“Momma, Mommy!”

“Well guys, dinner's ready!” Mike Harris announced from the kitchen area.

Later that night, Ashlyn's family got in their cars back home, save for Kyle, who was staying in one of their guest rooms with his husband Ben, who had arrived days before, and then Ashlyn found out Debbie was getting in a plane that night back to Miami. Her husband, graciously called Mike Christopher, had arrived from his work trip to the worrisome news and had wanted to visit Ashlyn, so he was here to go with his wife back home.

“I'd love to stay more, but there's work, and we still don't know how the apartment looks,” Debbie told Ashlyn as they hugged goodbye.

“Well it was great to have you as always, Deb,” Ashlyn hugged her as tightly as she could without agonizing in pain. “I owe you my life and so much more, thank you.”

“Nonsense,” Debbie kissed her cheek. “You're my daughter too. I only leave calm because I know you're both being cared for properly. I love you.”

“We love you too,” Ashlyn was honestly sad to see her leave,but at least she'd be far from trouble.

“I'll be right back in December for my granddaughter's arrival!” Debbie announced, and then took her grandson up in her arms, kissing his cheek tenderly. “I'll miss you sweetheart! Be a good boy, uh?”

“Stay,” Finley begged his grandma.

“I will be back before you know it,” Debbie promised, kissing him again. “See you soon loves.” She hugged her daughter as well, and the family stood by the threshold waving everyone goodbye as car after car, they all left the street.

“Well,” Kyle took Finley into his arms. “Let's get some bed-time story going, uh?”

“Actually, Kyle, I think I'll take over,” Ashlyn was excited about going back to her normal mother duties. “Bath, story, bed, what do you say buddy?”

“Yay!”

“You guys get on with that, Kyle and I will do the dishes,” Ali smiled at her wife and son, and dragged her brother to the kitchen while her brother-in-law cleaned the dining table.

Ashlyn had a firm grip of Finley's hand and listened to his stories as they took his pyjamas and bathrobe and went to the bathroom, where Ashlyn prepared a nice warm bath, and sat on the floor next to the tub with the boy sitting inside of it. While Finley played with his bathtub toys, Ashlyn washed his hair and felt herself relax and feel just so happy from the familiar routine. Finley was smiley like his Mama, with long athletic legs, and all the charm from his Momma, so he always provided a nice company as well, and Ashlyn could play a little bit with him in the bathtub.

“Me up?” Finley asked after Ashlyn had done the effort of picking him up for just a moment to get him out of the bathtub, drying him with his bathrobe.

“I can't sweetie, my boo-boos hurt if I pick things up too much. But we'll go to bed and I'll read you as many stories as you want, okay?”

“'Kay...”

“That's one super clean boy!” Ali arrived to make sure Ashlyn didn't need extra help. “You smell like so good, I'm gonna eat ya!” Finley laughed as Ali kissed him and tickled him, and Ashlyn chuckled at them.

“Help me get him into the crib?” Ashlyn asked, and Ali nodded, taking him up in her arms. Ashlyn was once more surprised at her wife's toughness and strength. Six months pregnant? Try to stop her. And to think she was carrying a little girl with her DNA, that would most likely be the fiercest girl in the planet, made Ashlyn both feel the luckiest and also completely terrified about the possibility of their daughter being fearless like Finley and getting in all the trouble, if not more.

With Finley in the crib, Ashlyn read him his favourite story, and then the others came for sleep song time, until the little boy passed out, sleeping softly.

“Goodnight sunshine,” Ali caressed his face through the crib bars. “Sweet dreams.”

“We'll see you in the morning,” Ashlyn squeezed his hand gently through the crib bars. “May the night fill your sleep with nice adventures and fun.”

The mothers walked into their bedroom, that Ashlyn had particularly missed. They were both tired and, as Ashlyn changed into her pyjamas, she looked over and saw Ali was already naked sitting in bed as she silently put on some shorts. Before she put on a tee, Ashlyn stopped to observe her naked beauty for the first time in about a month. Her grown belly, her grown breasts that fell over it, the engorged nipples preparing to breastfeed, and felt herself funnily getting aroused.

“What?” Ali had noticed her looking, and was now putting on a sports bra, because now that her breasts were so big, it was more comfortable to wear that to sleep than a t-shirt.

“I forgot you're so gorgeous,” Ashlyn admitted with a shrug. Ali grinned and patted the bed, encouraging her to come over. They both snuggled under the sheets for the first time in so long, enjoying the feeling of each other.

Ashlyn was more comfortable sleeping on her good side, and Ali was better on her back, so they made it work so Ashlyn had a hand on her belly, feeling for their daughter, while Ali kissed her forehead and kept a hand over hers and another buried in her blondish hair.

“Goodnight,” Ali whispered as Ashlyn nuzzled into her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you both,” Ashlyn snuggled closer. “Sleep well, my girls.”

The sun had only just started to rise when Ashlyn woke up with a startle, hearing the trash collector's truck loudly emptying containers into the truck outside in the street. The matrimony hadn't moved during the night, and Ashlyn could feel their daughter moving beneath her hand, kicking softly. Ali continued to sleep undisturbed, her face buried in Ashlyn's hair, the hand that had been there having fallen to her shoulder.

The former goalkeeper sighed and tried to go back to sleep, as it was chilly. Logan's paws could be heard walking over, and soon, she was staring at her from her position by Ali's bedside, so she carefully moved to check the baby monitor on Ali's night stand. Her long-sightedness was always a bit shittier early morning and late at night, so it took her a little to distinguish the shape of Finley sleeping curled on his side and sucking his thumb. She waited to hear if Kyle or Ben were awake, but if they were, they were being quiet about it.

“Go to sleep,” she whispered to Logan. “Everybody's sleeping. I'm not getting up.” Ashlyn closed her eyes against Ali's chest, determined to fall asleep again, but she just couldn't, and this time, it had nothing to do with Logan's eyes on her. She could barely remember what she had dreamed, but had a vague idea that she had been getting shot, and wasn't particularly excited about the idea of going back to that.

At last, she made an attempt of pulling from Ali, who groaned.

“Sh...” Ashlyn carefully put Ali's arms off herself, and kissed her wife's cheek. “Sleep...” she whispered.

She awaited for a few moments until the dark eyebrows seemed to relax again and a light snore escaped Ali's lips before tucking her in properly and rolling out of bed pressing a hand against her side and clenching her jaw to avoid a groan. In the ensuite bathroom, she washed her face and attempted to reorganize her messy hair. Her eyebrows were unshaven and she had a slight blonde moustache starting to grow, but the idea of shaving now was too painful to even imagine. After getting shot, she found herself less willing to even the slightest aches, so she merely slid her feet in her slippers, put on her housecoat, and walked back into the bathroom to see Ali was just as she left her, and their dog had occupied her spot in the bed.

“You traitor,” Ashlyn whispered, scratching Logan's ears before quietly leaving the room, closing the door after herself.

As usual, she made a detour into Finley, Finn, or Finney's room, caressing his cheek and hair softly as he slept. She retired his thumb from his mouth, but she knew it'd be back. They'd worry about braces later in life, anyway. Finley's room was cream-coloured, instead of the light grey that reigned in the rest of the house, with a mobile of the universe hung over the brown crib where Ashlyn had once slept over thirty years before and that her father had restored for Finley, and with bookshelves filled with story books, and soft fluffy animals over every surface. On top of the chest of drawers near the crib was a framed photograph of Ali in the hospital holding newborn Finley and kissing his forehead softly, her bun a dark mess, while Ashlyn perched on the bed with her arms around them, smiling tenderly at them. There were many photographs in the room, because they wanted for Finley to get used to seeing his family so they wouldn't seem like strangers every time they came over, but that one remained Ashlyn's favourite. Even more so than their wedding photograph, being a laughing mess next to Kyle and Chris.

While coffee was prepared, even thought it wasn't for herself, Ashlyn put the heater on. They didn't like to have it on all night, just in case there was some system failure, but now it was okay. She was so tired she consumed her glass of juice, which was what she could drink, quite fast while she checked the mail she had picked-up, sitting on the sofa with the TV at a low volume with the morning news she wasn't paying much attention to, that was, until she heard her own name and looked up to read the headline on the screen 'Harris returns home!'.

“Orlando Pride's former captain and goalkeeper left Orlando Regional Medical Centre yesterday evening,” a reporter was saying, standing in front of the centre's doors. “We saw her wife, former defender Ali Krieger-Harris, drive her out of the hospital, which surely is good news for the Krieger-Harris family, now that after three weeks hospitalized they can finally have Ashlyn back with them.”

“Certainly good news Ralph,” the news presenter said, the screen split in two to show both the program's studio and the live street footage. “What do we know about Ashlyn's condition now?”

“Well, she was reportedly shot from behind, with the bullet damaging her left kidney to the point that it had to be taken out. The bullet damaged her diaphragm, pancreas and stomach before coming out through the front, but no other organs needed to be taken-out, although speaking with the doctors, we've been told it'll be a long recovery and certainly no sports for a long while, so better focus on the impeding arrival of her daughter later this year. In addition, it appears that the Satellite Beach native was beaten-up, sustaining several bruises, a fractured cheekbone, and a concussion.”

“And still, no idea what happened, right?” the presenter asked then. Ashlyn straightened in her seat, forgetting their mail.

“No, we spoke with police yesterday and were told a big percentage of the Krieger-Harris' neighbours, family members and friends have been interrogated, including Orlando Pride's Coach Marc Skinner, the last one to see Ashlyn before she was found injured by her wife Ali a long time later, when she went in her search. Coach Skinner has given a full statement saying Ashlyn visited him worried about Hurricane Joel and wanting to offer him help and ensure he was prepared, and she helped him get garden stuff into the house and prepare a box of emergency supplies before leaving, saying her son Finley, who's now two, is afraid of storms and she wanted to get home before the big storm begun. She should've gotten home walking in less than twenty minutes, yet there was over an hour before Ali found her, almost dead from the intense blood loss, and when the storm had gotten so bad there was no power in the area, and no phone signal. It's certainly an odd attack, without witnesses and under exceptional weather circumstances that have erased all evidence, so the focus right now is on returning the sense of safety to Altamonte Springs, and the hopes of finding the attackers are very low.”

Hearing a noise, Ashlyn turned the TV off and turned around brusquely only to find Kyle in his pyjamas with a mug of coffee.

“Sorry,” Kyle smiled apologetically. “Good morning.”

“Hey, good morning,” Ashlyn checked her watch and saw she had been awake for nearing two hours. “Ben awake as well?”

“He's trying to convince his brain he can still sleep more,” Kyle snorted a laugh. “Have you been up for long?”

“Just a bit. I'll make breakfast,” Ashlyn moved and finished her juice while she started frying eggs and preparing fruit bowls, since they insisted on Finley eating lots of fruit.

“Momma!” she heard Finley shout.

“Kyle, could you please...?” Kyle nodded and rushed to get his nephew, as Ashlyn couldn't with his nearing 28 pounds anyway. Kyle came back two minutes later with Finley held between his arms sucking his thumb against his chest and looking adorably sleepy. “Good morning!” Ashlyn grinned at him.

“Momma food,” Finley demanded. Kyle laughed, shaking his head and putting him in his high chair by the counter.

“Momma food? What's this? Not even hi?” Ashlyn chuckled amused, leaning to kiss her son. “Stop sucking that thumb, Finn...”

“Hi,” Finley pointed to the eggs cooking. “Me food please?”

“I'll give you breakfast, yes,” Ashlyn handed him his bowl of fruit and his special glass with juice, plus a small plate of biscuits.

Finley had a problem with himself in the mornings that Ashlyn had only seen in Ali before, which was funny, as there wasn't a drop of Krieger DNA in his veins, and it was that he was equally tired, refusing sleep, and hungry in the mornings, making him a nightmare at times. He was falling asleep while eating, but would bail his eyes out if anyone tried to put him to sleep. Therefore, he provided the morning entertainment, as Kyle and Ashlyn sat eating observing amused as Finley's eyes half closed while slowly munching pieces of banana, then Ashlyn shook him gently so he continued to eat, and after a few minutes, he started slowing again.

“I mean, stand-up comedy,” Kyle joked filming him with his phone at the eighth time he fell asleep with his mouth closed around part of a biscuit.

“Yeah,” Ashlyn chuckled, taking out the remainder of the biscuit, “let's take a nap, Finn.” Then he suddenly sat up.

“No, no,” Finley grabbed his glass. “I good.”

“You're good?” Kyle laughed.

“I see our nephew is back to being the funniest dude!” Ben arrived with Ali, who in imitation of her son, was mostly sleep-walking. Ben had his green eyes on Finley and a smile on his face and was soon kissing Ashlyn's cheek before pecking his husband's lips, as he was the person who woke up in the best mood. “Good morning family.”

“Mama, look!” Finley pointed as his half-empty plate. “I good!” he was often congratulated for finishing his dish, and he looked smugly proud of himself.

“What?” Ali stopped, the message arriving later in her brain, and smiled sleepy. “I see, good job!” she leaned to kiss the top of his head.

“He's doing an Ali,” Kyle explained, and Ali snorted, knowing what the deal was.

“Breakfast for the queen,” Ashlyn had stood up and handed Ali her juice, with a half-hug and a kiss on her temple. As much as Ali wasn't a real person until she had her coffee, this was forbidden during pregnancy. She had taken perhaps four coffees during Finley's pregnancy and now they had a child who awoke at five most days, so they weren't taking risks. “Want some eggs?”

“Please,” Ali dropped on a chair by Finley's high chair, caressing his hair. Ashlyn gave her food and sat with her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She had put on her housecoat for decorum, but Ashlyn still found her way to caress her belly with one hand. “You all slept good?”

“Very good,” Ben nodded.

“How you doing?” Ashlyn asked her wife, patting her belly softly. “When's the next doc appointment?”

“Before your birthday,” Ali answered, munching her eggs. “I'm fine, just tired.”

“Mama, Rowin be fat,” Finley commented looking sleepy at his mothers.

“Robin's fat? How come?” Ali inquired, amused by his antics.

“'Cause that's why you huge,” he explained, matter-of-factly, making them laugh. Oh, how had Ashlyn missed her family.

“Hey, I've got practice with the girls today,” Ali told her wife, squeezing her hand. “Are you good with being solo?”

“I'm not solo, but don't worry,” Ashlyn nodded. “You train those girls proper. Finn, want to longboard today?”

“Yay!”

“Careful with that, you two, and Finn, remember Mommy's still with a boo-boo, so we have to take care of her, okay?”

“Yes Mama,” Finley nodded firmly.

Ben and Kyle were also fierce skateboarders and longboarders, so once Ali was gone for practice with the girls, they all got ready and Ashlyn picked her old longboard, that Finley had been regularly practising with. She wasn't supposed to be doing much exercise yet, so she attempted merely walking by Finley while he slowly but surely managed the board following his mother's advice. However, after a few minutes, Ashlyn ended up standing behind him on the board, because she just loved it too much, and Finley laughed and called for her to go 'faster, faster', which was good encouragement, while Kyle was filming for his vlogs.

“Aren't you dying girl?” Kyle chuckled at Ashlyn, knowing she shouldn't be making this sort of effort.

“Can't afford it!” Ashlyn smiled at him, and focused on keeping Finley steady.

Suddenly, Ashlyn found herself feeling in high alert for no reason, her skin breaking into goosebumps, as she looked around. They were just in the avenue, between a park and office buildings, there was nothing remotely dangerous. She shook the thought off and pushed the longboard forward with her foot, obeying Finley's requests for more speed. Someone who was loading their car's trunk nearby closed the trunk with a small bang that startled Ashlyn, and she planted a foot on the ground to stop the longboard, feeling her breathing fast and heavy.

“Mommy, go, go!” Finley requested, trying to push with his own foot and failing.

But Ashlyn was looking around, scrutinizing her surroundings, and couldn't shake out the feeling that they were in great danger, with her breathing fastening and adrenaline rising

“Ashlyn,” she jumped at Kyle's voice suddenly so close, not having realized he and Ben had come back, noticing they were advancing alone. “Are you all right? You've gone white.”

“We should head back,” said Ben, looking worried. “Too much exercise can't be good right now.”

“Take Finn,” Ashlyn said breathlessly, walking around. It felt like walking inside someone else's memory. She knew the street, because she had walked through it a bunch of times in all the years she had lived in the area. She had even driven in the area, skated, bicycled, everything.

But this didn't feel like things were familiar because of any of those things. She sat on a bench, taking deep breaths, and looked at a board that was behind a window saying 'Office space available for rent' along with a phone number, and all of the sudden she could feel herself sitting on the grass, looking at the then blurry board.

“333...” Ashlyn murmured, the blurry numbers coming into shapes as she closed her eyes, only to then open them and see it matched what she saw.

Ashlyn stood up, walking heavy steps around the corner, feeling for a way she had walked before, or rather ran, noticing how her skin broke into more and more goosebumps, her hair rising as if her body knew more than she consciously knew. She wandered from one street to another, guided by an inner feeling of urgency, deaf from the loudness of voices she couldn't quite distinguish, until she reached a tall wall in the end of a narrow street, separating from a private parking. It was three metres tall or so, and had a big trash skip next to it.

Confused, she stared at the wall, as the loudness in her head disappeared and was substituted by an intense headache. And then, her eyes fixed on a hole in the wall, over the skip. A round, small, penetrating hole that hadn't managed to go through the wall, but had created a fissure round shaped. She observed that in order to touch it, she'd need to climb on top of the skip, and then, could it be...

“Ashlyn Michelle Krieger-Harris!” Kyle roared, and she turned around to see Kyle, standing at the street entry, looking at her all confused. “I've called you a bunch of times! What're you doing?” Ashlyn took a deep breath, and locked eyes with him.

“I think I was shot here.”

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I'm moving to London this month, so I'm stressed and busy and I haven't updated because I had to finish University, graduate, and deal with all the preparation to move to a whole other country. Because of this, I think I'm not going to be very active for the next couple months as I accommodate to England, so I'm going to first leave a bunch of chapters to compensate my absence and then focus my attention on those fics who are getting comments/support/interest/readers, and leave the others aside, as for myself, just having written them and having them stored in my computer is enough pleasure and I don't really need to put them all online. So this is as many chapters as you'll get for now, and if I see interest rising then I'll make an effort and find time to post more, as I have the entire thing written.
> 
> Thank you for your support and understanding. Much love!


	8. Working on happiness

**Chapter 8: Working on happiness.**

“I know it doesn't make much sense,” Ashlyn was saying, sitting on her sofa three hours later, while Finley napped and Ali, her brother and brother-in-law, and Orlando PD's Detective Joan Ghets was taking notes of her statement. Ali had arrived home to hear what Ashlyn was saying and decide police ought to know. Detective Ghets was the one in charge of the investigation. “But that's where I got shot. I'm sure. The hole in the wall, it was caused by the same bullet that went through me.”

“I didn't find her there,” Ali clarified. “I found her several streets away.”

“Mrs Krieger-Harris,” Detective Ghets locked eyes with Ashlyn. “How did you even get there? You said you didn't remember anything.”

“And I didn't,” Ashlyn clarified. “It's hard to explain. Do you know that feeling, when a place just... gives you a bad feeling?” the officer nodded slowly, “well that's what I felt. I suddenly had a very bad feeling, and my body reacted unconsciously. I just felt my heart beating hard with adrenaline, my skin getting goosebumps, the hairs in my arms rising, and I knew there was something wrong. My feet moved by themselves pretty much, and when I saw that wall, that skip... I just felt like there was very, very bad energy there. And like I had to get out. Then, I saw the hole, and noticed that it was at the precise height to be in front of my wound if I stood on the skip facing the wall, and then Kyle brought me out of my... trance, if you wish. I didn't lie, I don't know how I know this, but I have no doubt I was shot there. I could not climb on it now, injured, but the skip is not that tall, and I climbed fences in my youth. With good health, it wouldn't be an issue.”

The detective nodded slowly in understanding, and took a sip of the water she had been offered. Her phone buzzed then and she read a text, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, the forensic team said that's definitely a bullet hole, matching the bullet the doctors think you got. No bullet inside the skip, nor fractions of bullet anywhere, though.”

“Of course not, it's been three weeks,” Ali commented.

“Yeah,” Ghets nodded again. “It's a bullet used a lot, very common, for example every police officer in Florida has guns with that type of bullet. So there must be hundreds of people with license for a gun like that.”

“I also think, Detective,” Ashlyn added, “that I wasn't hit in the head. I was thinking, and the doctors were always confused as to how had I gotten such a serious concussion hit with the force of someone's arm, but if I was standing on the skip when I was shot, I would've lost my balance, and I probably would've fallen, right? My forehead could've hit the verge of the skip, cutting it, and then I could've rolled and hit my head against the ground, losing consciousness. That would explain the serious concussion, and the cut that a fist could not do, and the amnesia, if I hit myself that hard, of course I wouldn't remember things. Maybe I was never even beaten-up, maybe all my bruises, and my hands, were from the fall.”

“I was actually just thinking about that possibility,” said the detective. “It looks like you could've been running from something or someone, tried to climb the skip to jump over the wall and run away, but were shot as you attempted the escape. However, it's going to be hard to find any evidence still, because according to the council hall, the hurricane damaged the skip to the point that a new one had to be put, and the heavy rains and winds would get rid of any fragments of bullet or traces of DNA. If you were moved to the other street, though, it's possible that a car was used for such things, to avoid being seen moving a body. If a car was used, it may be in the scrapyard. It's a long shot, but I'll send someone to see if we can find anything. You still don't remember anyone who could've wanted to kill you?”

“No.”

“Why would she be moved, though?” Kyle inquired, sitting with them.

“Probably so that if she was found, the crime scene wasn't found,” said the Detective. “The crime scene is always where most evidence can be found. If we didn't have it, we'd be looking for witnesses and evidence where we can't find it. Near this place there's an apartment building, so we'll ask around now. Call us if you remember anything else.”

“Will do, thanks.”

With the detective away from the house, Ashlyn sighed and lied on the sofa, frustratedly trying to figure what had happened, who had hurt her like this and bothered so much to try and not get caught.

“Perhaps therapy will help you remember,” Ali suggested, massaging her feet.

“Yeah... but when?”

From then on, Ashlyn decided to just not think about it. Like her friends had said, perhaps thinking less about it would make her remember, as sometimes obsessing just made things harder. She spent the days between therapy and rehab, watching her family nap together and bouncing Finley on her knee while playing soccer in the playstation, between other activities. She also entertained greatly with the media every time their son slept and Ali was unavailable either sleeping -as she often coordinated her naps with Finley's- or elsewhere. For example, on a cold October afternoon she was content with sitting on the sofa playing FIFA 2020 in the playstation with Ali's feet on her lap as the brunette slept, and she was so moved by Ali's absolute beauty that she genuinely stopped playing and took a photo of her, just snuggled there with the shark blanket they had and a bunch of pillows, her long eyelashes closed peacefully and her wedding band and engagement diamond shining together under her chin, where her hand was tucked.

' _I swear she still makes my heart skip a beat... <3 #SexiestMamaEver_' Ashlyn captioned with the photo.

When a few days later, Kyle and Ben had to go home, there were tight hugs and Finley even cried, but the men had not just work to go back to, but also their first meeting with a baby they might go on to adopt.

“Two months Finney,” Kyle promised kissing his tearful nephew, that Ashlyn was holding, feeling stronger.

“No!” Finley extended an arm, crying. “Don't go!”

“Go, we'll handle him,” Ashlyn promised, hugging Finley closer. “Come on baby, Uncle Kyle will call the moment he lands in DC, don't be sad, he'll be back in December.”

“No...!” when the door closed, Finley called for his uncles frantically and Ali and Ashlyn exchanged shocked glances.

“My sweet boy, you love your uncles so much, don't you?” Ali cupped his face, kissing him, and Ashlyn kissed him too, both wet cheeks properly kissed. “What if we have a dance party, uh?”

Finley sniffled hard and then nodded with a pout.

“'Kay...”

Ashlyn snorted a laugh and walked over to their 'music station', putting on Calum Scott's 'Rhythm inside'.

“Oh I love...” Ali said walking over to them.

Finley was put on the floor holding hands with his mothers, who moved him around until he wasn't pouting anymore, but smiling widely.

“Come on with those moves Finn!” Ashlyn encouraged tickling him. “ _There's a rhythm inside that I can't slow down_...! Fist pump!”

“ _It feels like I could be the one for your love..._ ” Ali danced around, chuckling at Finley's moves.

“Mommy I want the juggle song!” Finley petitioned when the song ended, jumping up and down and grabbing Ashlyn's shorts until her ass was almost exposed, as she attended the music equipment.

“You mean the jungle song?” Ashlyn asked with a smile, amused. Finley didn't seem to hear the difference.

“Juggle song, yeah,” he nodded, confused, and she laughed.

“In the jungle, the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight...” Ali sang, hugging Finley from behind and kissing his cheek, making him laugh.

“Wimoweh, wimoweh,” Ashlyn sang putting on the song and moving her hips. Finley loved the damn song so much that it was frequent to hear him walking around singing 'eeeeeee-eeeeee...' at tunes that were just the song. “Wifey!” Ashlyn wrapped an arm around her wife and took her hand in her free one, swaying them around while Finley jumped up and down.

“I love our dance parties,” Ali grinned, leaning to kiss her wife.

Afterwards, Finley requested 'The gummy bear' song, and Ashlyn pretended to be offended about his poor musical taste while humming along and swaying her ass, making Ali laugh. She was one against two silly Harrises, and she was in for a laugh.

“If we're with children songs, I want 'Can't stop the feeling' after!” Ali requested.

And they danced to that, and 'Shut up and dance with me' and many others, before Ashlyn felt exhausted and stumbled on a chair catching her breath while watching her family jumping up and down as if they didn't know the word exhaustion. Finley was so funny, because he even half knew the lyrics, and had the sickest moves, making her laugh. Eventually, Ali sat on her lap and wrapped her arms around her neck, giving her one of those kisses that suck all the oxygen from your lungs.

“Are you happy, queen?” Ashlyn asked her wife.

“The happiest,” Ali grinned, kissing her again. “Life with you is just perfect.” Ashlyn wrapped her arms around her satisfied, and smiled, pressing her cheek against her wife's forehead, that tucked under her chin, and watching their firstborn have the party of his life, with Logan running around.

It was only natural that after such a party, Finley passed-out from exhaustion, sleeping snuggled between Ali's arms while Ashlyn prepared some dinner for her family. They could all agree that Ali's grown breasts and belly were the perfect pillow for a nap, and Finley wasn't about to throw the opportunity to the trash can.

“Look at him,” Ali whispered when Ashlyn brought dinner to her and sat with her. Finley's cheek rested against Ali's breasts, his eyes closed showing long eyelashes, and his pink lips formed his sleeping pout. Ali was caressing his waves of dirty blonde hair softly and kissing the top of his head, an arm wrapped around him as she observed him attentively, “he looks so innocent and sweet...”

“He's perfect,” Ashlyn said matter-of-factly, chuckling. “You made him, what else would he be?” Ali smiled broadly at her. Something shifted in her eyes and she sighed.

“Our lives wouldn't be nearly as great without you, you know?” Ali murmured. Ashlyn stopped munching sausages and looked up at her. “I'm so glad you came home.”

The former goalkeeper stretched a hand to take a strand of her hair behind her ear and caress her cheek, then Finley's.

“You know, I may not remember much or almost nothing of that day,” said Ashlyn, “but I do remember being terribly sad thinking of not seeing you all again, of never meeting Robin, of you having to raise them without me. But I was given a second chance, and I think that... if by the time Robin arrives the cops haven't figured this out, I think we should pack our things and go, you know?”

“Go where?”

“I don't know. Far,” Ashlyn shrugged. “Take the kids, Logan included of course, and just go. Europe? Gun violence is rare there, people don't normally have guns. Just somewhere safe, Alex. America is crazy, and I... I'm not sure I want to live fearing Finley will be shot in school, fearing a crazy neighbour will attack us, feeling like if I'm not armed, I'm in danger. So... I don't know, it was just an idea that perhaps, we could go.”

Ali looked thoughtful for a while, and in a moment looked down at their son and her belly, and breathed deeply, nodded.

“Let's change the world, Ash.” She said suddenly.

“Change the world?”

“Let's push Florida to change,” said Ali. “Look, we can't change the world in one day, but we can start with Florida. I checked our gun laws while you were in the hospital and Ash, even under 21s can have guns. I'm sure if we stand up and get serious and force... I mean, Liz's uncle is a mayor, I'm sure he can help. We could force people to take action and stop selling guns as easily as they're sold, for under 21s to stop being able to carry guns, for licenses to not be given so easily, and only to Florida residents, because people from other places can come here and be given license, you know? If the laws were better...”

“What makes you think we'll be successful?”

“We have to try. We owe it to our kids, we can't just... strip them from their roots. Their extended family, our friends... we can't just to that, not even for their own good. We have tons of fans, if we start telling Florida do this or we are legit changing country, we'll be the first celebrity family that goes so far as to publicly say we'll move out of America and take our children away from it if gun violence isn't fought more firmly, and there will be pressure, right? Our fans will follow, I'm sure. And all the other victims and their families... there are billions of people out there sick of these laws. We just have to push Florida to copy the laws of European countries we know. It's either that, Ash, or... taking so much from our kids.”

Ashlyn took a deep breath, looking at Finley, and decided she was right. It was 2023, and too many people had died from gun violence already. The US always had millions more victims than any other country worldwide in the rankings. This wasn't what she wanted for her family.

“All right. We'll put up a fight.”

  
  


 


	9. Connecting dots

**Chapter 9: Connecting dots.**

“One day you'll have to look,” Ali said softly.

It was early morning and Ashlyn was lying down on their bed, shirtless, while Ali had the stomach and will to take off the large bandage on her back and clean the now scar. So far, Ashlyn had refused to see her wounds, feeling completely unprepared.

“Not yet,” said Ashlyn.

“Well, this is healed,” Ali decided, looking closely at the thick, pink scar. “It's just a scar, no need to clean it anymore.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Wanna look?”

“No!”

“Okay, then turn around so I check the other one.”

Ashlyn did as she was told and rolled over, keeping her eyes on the ceiling as Ali took off the other bandage and made sure the scar was also completely closed, without blood or any other thing.

“This one is also all right,” said Ali. “No need to cover it anymore. Been telling you a week.”

“Yeah, well, the more covered they are the more protected, right?” but Ashlyn wasn't going to ask her to cover it again.

She knew she'd eventually have to face her scars, but it was just complicated. Looking at it, she could imagine how brutal the damage had been, she could see the blood pouring out and feel all the rage from thinking some jerk had done that to her, so she'd rather not look. If she didn't look, it felt slightly less real. And she didn't want to see her beautiful side tattoo mostly ruined either, if she was completely honest with herself.

Ashlyn was so deep in thought that Ali's warm mouth on her breast caught her unexpectedly, and she moaned when she felt Ali suck gently.

“Alex, girl...” Ashlyn smiled, closing her eyes and enjoying.

“You weren't lis-ning,” Ali spoke with her nipple in her mouth.

“I'll have to not listen more often, then.”

She sniggered as Ali came up to kiss her, her belly brushing against Ashlyn's lack of abs as they made out.

“Moms!” Finley's voice came over. “Pee pee!”

“Oh shit,” Ashlyn laughed as Ali quickly put on a t-shirt and made it to their son, and followed throwing a shirt over herself.

Finley's potty training had been going on since the summer, and it was... well. More often, he made it, but other times he forgot he didn't have diaper on anymore. On this occasion, Ali managed to sit him on the potty fast enough, so they could breathe calm. Teaching him to do it standing up would be a hard work for later.

“What's this?” Finley asked poking his little friend as Ashlyn pulled up his pants afterwards.

“That's a penis.”

“Oh,” Finley looked curious. “To pee pee?”

“Yes sweetie, so you can pee.”

“Pee pee!” Finley smiled with his teeth showing and ran to the garden.

“Finley! We don't run around the pool!” Ashlyn shouted after him following him outside. The boy was running with Logan by the pool, but stopped as soon as he heard Ashlyn, and ran over to a just grass area.

“What an earthquake dude, uh?” Ali walked to Ashlyn, and they stood watching.

“And he's only two, Ali. At this rhythm we won't get to be sixty, he'll destroy our hearts.” Ali laughed, shaking her head.

“Let's make lunch!”

After lunch, Finley had fallen asleep snuggled on top of Ali on the sofa, and the former defender had fallen asleep as well, with the head on Ashlyn's lap, as Ashlyn massaged her scalp and watched TV with Logan snuggled on her other side. The lack of proper sleeping was making Ashlyn's eyelids descend slowly as she attempted to watch TV, until finally her eyes closed and sank her in darkness, her hand stopping its movements on Ali's head.

Slowly, the darkness started to clear, and she was watching a familiar 'Office space available for rent' announcement board. She was covered in water and struggling to breathe, as she felt like she was choking. She coughed and saw red in the water that surrounded her face for just a moment, before the water took it all away. Her stomach and head hurt like crazy and she heard a lot of noise, like thunder and rain, but couldn't move.

“Ali...” she murmured, hearing her own weak voice. Ashlyn attempted to move, but it was impossible, she was just heavy, soaked, and shaking from how cold she was, lying on the hard pavement, just staring at that announcement board. Someone closed their car trunk hard near her, and suddenly, she woke up, startled.

“Everything okay?” Ali was sitting on the floor with Finley playing puzzle, and looked at her as she sat up, as somehow it seemed like she had lied down during her sleep, or Ali had lied her down.

“Yeah, just an odd dream...” Ashlyn scratched her head, checking her watch and seeing it had been hours.

“Wanna talk about it?” the short-haired woman looked at Finley and shook her head.

“Later.”

The wind hit hard against the windows and they realized it had started to rain heavily.

“Oh, great...” Ali sighed. “Babe, could you grab Finley's cotton sack from the attic? I think it's getting a little too cold for the one he has now?”

“Yeah, you're right. I'll be right back.”

Ashlyn stretched out and walked over to the corridor, stretching to pull the ceiling trap door to open. Like most babies, Finley slept with sacks because it was safer than blankets, but the one he was using now was really for a Florida summer, and he might be getting cold. Soon, they'd have the heater on through the night, mostly because Finley was complaining at the slightest breeze of 'cold' (or what Ali called 'nice fresh'). Florida wasn't really that hot or cold. South Spain could, any summer, have twice the temperature of Florida's heat record, but what Florida had was being really, really humid. Not just because it was thinner, so water was close no matter where you were, but also because of its many, many lakes, that made the heat feel particularly asphyxiating. Used to that, when it got a little chilly, usually Ali was breathing calm at finally having 'normal' weather, Ashlyn was running under the duvet, and Finley and Logan were begging for the heater. Ali said they exaggerated, but she was a Northerner, and when the summer came, they'd revenge.

Thus, Ashlyn found herself climbing the folding stairs into their small attic storage space, looking for the boxes where months before they had stored Finley's thicker, long-sleeved sacks and pyjamas.

“If I find a spider...” Ashlyn murmured. “You're all dead, girls, so better stay hidden...” she turned the light on and realized during their summer of organizing things, once both of them had retired, they had cleaned-up and instead of keeping the clothes in boxes, they had stored them neatly in the giant, ensuite closet over there.

She walked to the closet and opened it, realizing it was so dark she could barely distinguish anything. Then, she caught size of the tiny sacks folded in the depths of the closet, and reached to grab them. As she did so, Ashlyn did some movement that made her wince and close her eyes, pressing a hand against her wound, under which things were still healing. It'll take a year, the doctor had said, for her to feel more normal. Now, it had only been little over a month.

As she supported on the wooden surface of the drawers that filled the lower half of the closet behind sliding doors, leaning into the closet and breathing deep to manage the pain, she closed her eyes and had a sudden memory of being somewhere small, dark, somewhere she could get out of...

“Ash!” Ali's yell made her jump out of the closet, grabbing Finley's stuff. “Everything all right?” her wife was in the corridor looking up at the trap door's hole, and as Ashlyn leaned over it, she saw her worried expression.

“All good, I couldn't find it at first, but here,” Ashlyn pointed to her hands with her head.

Later, as Finley slept tucked in his crib and the night arrived to Orlando, Ashlyn and Ali sat on the sofa watching TV and snuggling, with their empty dinner dishes on the coffee table.

“So what's up?” Ali asked Ashlyn, who was more serious and thoughtful than usual.

“I think,” said Ashlyn, turning the TV off, “I was shot, then taken to the place where you found me, and left for dead. I remember lying there, where you found me, I must've been conscious. I also think that I was somewhere small and dark before that.”

“Kidnap?”

“Maybe just a car trunk? To move me from one place to another. In a dream, I was lying where you found me, and I could feel the water and see the office rent announcement, and then I heard a trunk closing hard. It's the same sound I heard longboarding with the boys that first made me walk to where I was shot, because it brought me back to the memory, and now I dream with it. I think what I heard was the shooter closing the trunk after leaving me, then get in the car and drive away.”

“It must've been a big car for you to fit in the trunk then, don't you think?”

“Yes, which is why I think if I could just remember things a little better, I'd be able to describe the car trunk with enough accuracy to have a short list of car brands. I could even... perhaps recall the voice of the person who did it, or a plaque number, or the colour of their shoes, the size, whether there were exposed hairy male's ankles or female, even if it was an older or younger person. I'm sure I must've been conscious at times and able to see who attacked me, or feel them grabbing me, and if I could recall it properly, I should be able to give a lot of information.”

Ali observed her deep in thought, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, for a few seconds until she spoke.

“Have you thought of trying forensic hypnosis?”

“Forensic hypnosis? What's that?”

“I read about it in university,” Ali explained. “It's a kind of hypnosis performed by specially trained forensic staff, that helps witnesses or victims recall traumatic events with enough accuracy to give major evidence for trials. The evidence is not always accepted unless there's a lot of external proof, but I'm thinking that if you could just remember enough to give police where to look, and they went and found strong evidence, just like it happened when you found the place where we can presume you were shot, then a judge would have to accept not your testimony, but the police evidence, right? Like... say your testimony through hypnosis sends them to a car that happens to have blood stains inside, then they'd have to investigate that, and then if it was your blood, a judge would have to admit that hey, there's a car with your blood inside, and that needs to be investigated. They couldn't say you were manipulated or something.”

Ashlyn looked at her, impressed. Ali was just giving her one very good idea to connect the dots in her head.

“Alex, how can we get that done?”

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I'm moving to London this month, so I'm stressed and busy and I haven't updated because I had to finish University, graduate, and deal with all the preparation to move to a whole other country. Because of this, I think I'm not going to be very active for the next couple months as I accommodate to England, so I'm going to first leave a bunch of chapters to compensate my absence and then focus my attention on those fics who are getting comments/support/interest/readers, and leave the others aside, as for myself, just having written them and having them stored in my computer is enough pleasure and I don't really need to put them all online. So this is as many chapters as you'll get for now, and if I see interest rising then I'll make an effort and find time to post more, as I have the entire thing written.
> 
> Thank you for your support and understanding. Much love!


	10. Testimony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I'm moving to London this month, so I'm stressed and busy and I haven't updated because I had to finish University, graduate, and deal with all the preparation to move to a whole other country. Because of this, I think I'm not going to be very active for the next couple months as I accommodate to England, so I'm going to first leave a bunch of chapters to compensate my absence and then focus my attention on those fics who are getting comments/support/interest/readers, and leave the others aside, as for myself, just having written them and having them stored in my computer is enough pleasure and I don't really need to put them all online. So this is as many chapters as you'll get for now, and if I see interest rising then I'll make an effort and find time to post more, as I have the entire thing written.
> 
> Thank you for your support and understanding. Much love!

**Chapter 10: Testimony.**

It took a few days to get Orlando PD and a judge to give permission, but eventually, it was decided that if it was what Ashlyn wanted to do, then it could be a good idea to proceed with forensic hypnosis, as once Ashlyn had clarified her memories, it would maybe be possible to open new lines of investigation that the police, so far stuck, could use to get somewhere interesting. The session would need to be filmed and recorded, as it was required by the judge for it to be valid if necessary during a trial, and it also required witnesses, so it would be carried on in the presence of a police technician who would take care of the technological equipment involved, Detective Joan Ghets, and, for Ashlyn's comfort, Ali and her therapist. In the meantime, their kid would be babysat by Sydney and Dom, who had a free day.

Prior to the session, Ashlyn got to meet the professional in charge of the hypnosis, and they had several coffee/juice meetings and lunches during a couple weeks, because it was important for them to develop some trust in each other. If Ashlyn didn't feel comfortable with them, she could ask for someone else to do it, and also if the professional got to know Ashlyn better, they'd be able to interpret the information she gave better.

The session was carried on a normal consult shortly before Ashlyn's birthday. There were a couple chairs for the Orlando PD detective and technician, a comfortable divan for Ashlyn, an armchair for Ali to be comfortable with her now nearing seven-months pregnancy, and chairs for Ashlyn's therapist and the forensic hypnotist.

“Nervous?” Chloe, the hypnotist, asked Ashlyn with a smile as she got comfortable in the divan.

“Olympics are to be nervous, this is just a walk in the park,” Ashlyn said confident with a smile, making her chuckle.

“Okay, remember whenever you wish to finish, we finish,” said Chloe. “Otherwise this ends either when we decide you've had enough, or when we get to the bottom of things.”

“Get to the bottom,” said Ashlyn, closing her eyes. “I'm ready.”

The first part of hypnosis was a matter of achieving the mental state to really go on. This required for Ashlyn to relax more than probably ever in her life, following the hypnotist's instructions, until Ali was sure her wife had fallen asleep, and found herself surprised when she was actually able to speak, although sounding sleepy.

“Ashlyn, I want you to focus on the last thing you remember with good quality from that day. You told me you were cleaning the garden, right?”

“Right,” Ashlyn nodded. She could almost see it in front of her. “Ali's pregnant, so I don't let her pull heavy stuff into the house, and I do it myself. I pick up our son's toys as well, they're scattered all over...” she murmurs, keeping her eyes closed.

“What do you do with those things you're grabbing?”

“I uh... I'm leaving them inside our garage. There's a white door adjacent to the house, so I have no problem, and Finley helps with his toys...”

“Look up, is it raining? Is it cold, windy? Or hot and dry?”

“Definitely too chilly for my liking,” Ashlyn answers. “Finley's complaining, and I tell him to zip-up his jacket. It has started to rain a little, and the wind makes our windows vibrate a little. Finley asks me whether there's a storm coming, and I tell him it's a hurricane, but he doesn't understand, and I don't wanna worry him, so I tell him it's just a bad storm, so we have to make sure everything is inside the house and all the windows are closed, and he offers to help. My mother-in-law is also there, helping us.”

“Have you finished now? Is everything done?”

“Yeah... yeah, but I have to go somewhere...”

“Where?”

“Marc... Marc, he was our coach, he's a friend, doesn't live far. He had been telling me how he was quite scared and didn't know what to expect of the hurricane.”

“When was this?”

“Uh... days before... we had met in the supermarket while buying provisions, and I had compromised with walking over to help him make sure he was ready, 'cause he's alone. His wife and kids are in England at the moment.”

“All right, what are you going to do then?”

“I promised I'd go, and I will. Ali's asking me whether it's safe, but the hurricane hasn't touched land yet, so I feel confident, I know these things, lived a few. Finley wants to come, but I don't like him being out when it's so windy, not even with me, I convince him to help his Mama with dinner.”

“Can you see the street? Can you describe what you see, Ashlyn?”

“Yeah, just walking out of our gated community, Marc lives close, I've been there a few times. Walking distance, really... it's only raining a bit, so I don't grab my umbrella. It's useless when it's so windy anyway, I just have my jacket zipped up. I start jogging a little, 'cause I like it... I walk through an area of grass by the road, and in a matter of minutes I'm at Marc's.”

“You arrive there?”

“Yes, no problem.”

“Did you walk through a street with office buildings?”

“No. I could've, but I like to walk through a park instead.”

“Okay, so are you with Marc now?”

“Yeah, he's offered me a beer, but I refuse it, I'm telling him I'm in a hurry, because Finley's afraid of storms. He starts crying easily and I don't want to have Ali get stressed with him. Marc has brought most of his stuff from the garden inside, but I help him with the barbecue and a few other things, and the rain is getting worse now, but my jacket has a hood. Useless with the wind, though, but I don't mind the rain. I tell Marc is like surfing on land, and we're cracking jokes and laughing...”

“So he's not so worried?”

“He was, but the more we talk the more he relaxes. I tell him it's not a big deal, and I think seeing I'm not worried helps him. He asks me if I know which route is the hurricane having, because he just returned from a trip to England, so hasn't read much about the hurricane, and I tell him it's from Miami to inland, so we shouldn't really feel it until night time. He comments it smells like rainy days in Birmingham, and it makes him nostalgic, and we make sure his lantern has batteries, 'cause I tell him the lights will probably go off. I insist we should also check he's got gas and all in his car, in case he has to quickly get out.”

“What car does Marc drive, Ashlyn?”

“Uhm...” Ashlyn frowns lightly in concentration. “It's second hand, he tells me the good one is home in Birmingham because he barely drives here anyway. It's a blue Fiat, and I suggest we revise the first-aid kit that everyone always keeps in the trunk for emergencies. So we're opening his trunk and he's got bandages and all in good quality, and I feel confident to go home.”

“Do you think you might fit in that trunk?”

“Not at all. Tiny one, tiny car. He only uses it for himself so what's the point. OK, I'm leaving, there's like thunder going around and we just saw lighting. Marc's offering to drive me, but I want him to save his gas in case he has to run out when it gets worse. So I'm walking out, just through a residential area. The rain's like hard drizzle now, but the sky has gone dark grey and full of thunder and lighting, but nothing too bad. I know my son will be scared, though, so I'm trying to walk faster, although my phone has started to buzz. I'm not taking it, because it'll get all wet the moment I pull it out. I'm starting to soak, so I walk a little faster. Then I hear... I'm hearing a crying child, I think?”

“You think?” Chloe looked curious. “Focus, pay attention to it. What is it?”

“Yeah... definitely a boy crying. And an adult shouting. I turn around following the voices, they come from an adjacent street. Oh shit... shit...”

“Breathe, Ashlyn, remember you're just observing, okay? You can't change what you see, you're just an spectator. What is it?”

“Damn, it's a black youngster, like twelve?” Ashlyn looks angry. “This dude's shouting at him like he's a criminal!”

“Who? Who's shouting at him?”

Ashlyn's looking at a young black boy, not quite a kid, bent on a car, with his cheek pressed firmly against the trunk of one of the many cars parked in the street, and someone is pressing his head against the vehicle while grabbing his hands behind his back. They're making the boy cry, and he locks eyes with her, and asks for help. She tells Chloe so, and looks at the figure grabbing him. To her surprise, it's a black shadow. She can't distinguish clothes, body parts or anything, just a black silhouette.

“I can't...”

“Yes you can Ashlyn, this is your memory. You're looking right at them, who is it? Who's grabbing that boy?”

The former goalkeeper puffs air and tenses-up, trying to see clearer, but Chloe encourages her to relax again and breathe deep, to not get out of the trance. Ashlyn follows her instructions, and then focuses back on the memory, that seems to have advanced without her paying attention. Suddenly the dark figure blocks her vision, they're right in front of her. But then, it's not a black figure anymore.

“Blue eyes,” Ashlyn whispers. Ali leans forward, curious and intrigued. “They're very light blue eyes, and they're full of anger.”

“Are they directly in front of yours, shorter, taller?”

“Yes. We're as tall. There's a pink oval face, with a hard squared chin, he's talking so fast I can hardly hear him, spitting even.”

“He?”

“He's a man, yes. I see...” Ashlyn seemed to struggle for a moment, breathing a little faster. “The boy is not around, he's ran. I was telling this man that he was abusing his power, to leave the kid alone, and he's threatening with arresting me.”

“Arresting you?” Chloe frowned. “Who is he, Ashlyn?”

“Short... short white hair, with deep receding hairline... he's got bags under his eyes, he's furious...”

“Who's furious, Ashlyn?” Chloe tries again, but the memory seems to be faster than the others, too fast for Ashlyn to describe it quickly enough, and now she's getting worked-up, breathing harder, shaking her head briefly at times. “Ashlyn, I need you to calm down, okay? It's gone. He can't hurt you know. You have to step back and observe from the distance, all right? Relax, breathe, look again.”

“He's a police officer,” Ashlyn whispers suddenly, so quietly they almost thought they didn't hear.

  
  


  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I'm moving to London this month, so I'm stressed and busy and I haven't updated because I had to finish University, graduate, and deal with all the preparation to move to a whole other country. Because of this, I think I'm not going to be very active for the next couple months as I accommodate to England, so I'm going to first leave a bunch of chapters to compensate my absence and then focus my attention on those fics who are getting comments/support/interest/readers, and leave the others aside, as for myself, just having written them and having them stored in my computer is enough pleasure and I don't really need to put them all online. So this is as many chapters as you'll get for now, and if I see interest rising then I'll make an effort and find time to post more, as I have the entire thing written.
> 
> Thank you for your support and understanding. Much love!


	11. A crime

**Chapter 11: A crime.**

“A what?” Detective Ghets can't help herself, but she apologizes straight away. “Sorry.” Ali's eyes are widened and fixed on Ashlyn, whose hands are trembling lightly.

“Ashlyn, are you arguing with a cop?” Chloe inquires, trying to clarify. “Are you sure of this?”

“Yes. He's wearing his service uniform,” Ashlyn murmurs. “He's shouting at me, saying it's my fault a thief got out, that he's going to ruin my career for obstruction to justice. And I'm very, very furious. I realize he's one of those mental cops, out of law. That boy was doing nothing. I saw him. I shout at the cop, tell him he shouldn't be grabbing boys like that, hurting them and scaring them until they cry. I'm asking him if he's also going to shoot him, just because he's black, like others do.” Ali has to cover her mouth with her hand to prevent herself from saying something, and she sees Chloe press her lips in tension. “He's dangerous, I know it. I want to go. I want to get out. I want to go home to my family...”

“Ashlyn, you're safe. It's going to be okay, all right? Focus on his voice, not on what he's shouting. How's his voice?”

“Deep... bit raspy... he's loud, fucking loud over the rain, and we're getting soaked. He's asking my documentation, but I refuse. I tell him I plead the fifth, I tell him unless I'm arrested, I won't say anything, and if I'm arrested, we'll have to speak through my lawyer because I've done nothing wrong and he can't arrest me for walking around. He's aggressive, and... fuck! He's slapped me!”

Ali clenches her jaw and intertwines her fingers hard in an effort to stop herself from getting up and killing someone. Chloe says Ashlyn's safe, but Ali knows she isn't. Later, she's going to get shot.

“We can end this if you want, Ashlyn,” Chloe offered. “Whenever you want, I can get you out.”

“No, no...” Ashlyn was suddenly breathing fast. “No, I gotta run like mad right now, I gotta leave... He's following me, where do I go?”

“Stop, Ashlyn, remember you're not there. You're just an spectator, put some distance,” Chloe insisted. “Step back, see yourself from outside, okay?”

“I can't,” Ashlyn panted, closing her eyes tightly, “I need to... there's nowhere to go. There's a skip, and a wall... I think there's a parking lot on the other side, I could jump on a car and scape... I'm there, I'm about to climb on the skip...”

He shouted at her to stop or he'll shoot. Slowly, she dared to look over her shoulder, directly at that police man pointing at her with his gun, and she's terrified. She feels her heart beating hard, drumming in her chest with abandon, and she begs him not to shoot. She tells him she's got a son, a toddler waiting for her home, and then also says there's a baby daughter as well, but he laughs. Outside, Ali observes as her wife starts whining, murmuring things too low to hear, tears wetting her cheeks. Chloe's trying to wake her up from the trance, but Ashlyn seems decided not to be awoken just yet.

And then, it happens. Her eyes suddenly pop open without seeing, and she makes a choking noise, opening her mouth and gasping for air.

“What's going on?” Ali asks, getting nervous.

“My guess is she's going through getting shot again,” Chloe whispered, observing attentively. “Don't worry, she can't actually get hurt or asphyxiate. Ashlyn, it's time to come back, okay?” she said calmly. “You're going to feel more aware... you feel the divan under-,”

“No,” Ashlyn said hoarsely, taking a shaky breath and sniffling. “No, let me...” she started murmuring numbers and letters of a plaque, and Detective Ghets caught note of them, then she groaned, pressing a hand against her belly and planting a foot on the divan hard, coughing a little.

“Can you feel the divan, Ashlyn? The soft textu-,”

“Don't,” Ashlyn cut her again, her voice weak. “It's dark...” her pupils moved, but Ali knew she wasn't looking at the ceiling. “He's taking me out of... it's his trunk... oh, God, it's raining hard now, we're soaked... I'm so dizzy, I think I'm going to puke.”

“Get a bucket, right in the bathroom,” Chloe told the therapist, who nodded and ran out of the room to get it. Upon arrival, Ashlyn was talking about grass, and she had rolled on her side.

“So much water...”

“Water? Are you in a river, or is it the rain?” Chloe inquired then, holding the bucket in case vomit came.

“Rain,” Ashlyn answered. She started describing the street with great accuracy, and Ali knew that's where she found her. “He's not here no more. He left. Drove away... I'm ready now,” she breathed deeply, and groaned, closing her eyes. “Get me out of here.”

It took another few minutes, but finally Ali heard Ashlyn take a deep intake of breath and then she started crying her eyes out, sobbing uncontrollably as she curled on the duvet, covering her face with her forearms and burying her fingers in her head until her knuckles went white.

**. . .**

“You've done so well, it's not usually so difficult,” Chloe smiled warmly at Ashlyn, offering her a mug of relaxing herbal tea that Ashlyn took between trembling hands, sitting on a sofa, Ali next to her rubbing soothing circles on her back.

It had been twenty minutes, the police tech was gone, and they had moved into Chloe's waiting room, where two sofas formed an L around a coffee table. Ashlyn sat between her therapist and Ali, who had managed to calm her down, and Detective Ghets sat on the other sofa with Chloe, all of them holding drinks as they prepared to discuss the experience and take notes. Now, the detective had her recorder on the table, but there was no need to film anymore, as the recorder was just so she wouldn't have to be taking notes and could do a more attentive listening.

“Better?” Emma, Ashlyn's therapist and friend for the past decade, asked. They normally saw each other every six months unless something biggie happened, as the shooting had been, prompting weekly visits. Ashlyn would trust her with any information.

“Yeah, thanks,” Ashlyn nodded after taking a sip of the warm liquid, clearing her throat. “Do all your clients always get up and puke in a bucket?” she added amused, looking at Chloe. She was a little pale, but felt like she had accomplished something big.

“No,” Chloe smirked. “But we knew it'd be intense, so I was prepared. Most of my hypnosis clients want to remember where they put an object of value, or get over an irrational fear or a memory they don't understand. You were shot. It's different.”

“So how accurate is this?” asked Detective Ghets.

“Well, it depends. You described your attacker as a white-haired, strong, fit, tall, male white police officer with light blue eyes, no facial hair, normal Orlando PD uniform. Does that sound familiar to either of you? Is it possible you've seen him before the attack or afterwards?” Chloe asked Ashlyn and Ali.

“The only cops I've seen in our area were young and appeared after the shooting,” said Ali. “Before... no, I've seen patrols but can't pinpoint anybody's appearance. We're usually home.”

“Yeah,” Ashlyn nodded. “I don't think I ever saw him before.”

“Then it's possible it's the real appearance of the attacker,” Chloe explained. “Often, our brains just use the looks of someone we know, because we describe the world from known things, but if you've never seen him before it's more likely that you described someone you only saw on this occasion. And as for the rest, we'll know how accurate it could be once the police checks those streets out. You could try walk around, see if any street looks like what you saw.”

“I know which streets they were. I know the names,” said Ashlyn. “They are all in the same area of attack. But maybe I just saw them because my brain used what's known.”

“Best way to be sure is seeing if any forensic evidence appears there. You described a boy pressed against a car?”

“Yeah, a white one parked in line between a beige one and a red one. Old, of those that are very low...” Ashlyn explained, the memory fresh in her head. “And he was... between twelve and fifteen, maybe. Thin, with jeans and a dark raincoat. He looked low class, so he may not be from the area. There's a park near by that's often used to play basketball, it has good baskets, maybe that's why he was around.”

“What happened after you got shot, did you see something?” Ali asked, and to her surprise, Ashlyn nodded.

“I wasn't far off with my own theories, I realized. I was begging him not to shoot, but then the hard wind made him stumble and I managed to climb on the skip. I was jumping to grab on the top of the wall when he shot, I lost balance with the water and pain, and fell head first, hit with the skip and then the ground. I saw his... shiny black shoes, big size, and... when he grabbed me to get me in his trunk, I saw he had a wedding band, left hand.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Detective Ghets asked.

“After shooting me?” Ashlyn asked, and she nodded. “He kept saying something, but to me it sounded like a murmur. I guess it was because of the concussion, my head hurt. And he didn't drive a patrol. His car was a grey Mercedes, of the newest ones.”

“Okay, well that's good, bloody good job ladies,” Detective Ghets got up. “I better go check what we can find. Time to rest, Mrs Krieger-Harris,” she added towards Ashlyn, who nodded.

“Thanks...”

Once at home, Ashlyn needed about two seconds to crash, falling asleep on the master bed spread eagle and face down. Ali picked Finley up from the Dwyers, and brought him home afterwards.

“Mommy!” Finley yelled.

“Sh...” Ali shushed him. “Go to the play zone, Finn, Mommy's asleep.”

Ali settled Finley to play with his cars, and went to check on her wife, who was just as she left her, snoring peacefully and resting on the bed after such a hard day. Ali walked over to sit on the verge of the day, caressing her light hair before leaning to kiss her cheek gently. They had postponed the fight against gun violence until after this day, because Ashlyn had to focus on one thing at a time, but now Ali knew they would have to focus on bigger battles, as hard as it was to believe. This had only just begun.

“Alibean?” Ashlyn murmured sleepy, her eyes closed.

“Hi,” Ali smiled, caressing her cheek.

“Finney home?”

“Yeah, I picked him up.”

“I love you Alex.”

“I love you too. Now rest, I'll handle dinner.”

  
  



	12. Healing

**Chapter 12: Healing.**

The offseason made it possible for their soccer friends to finally come over, as they had been wanting to do since they first heard Ashlyn had been shot. They kept in touch through phone all the time and Ali, who after graduating in Public Relationships and Advertisement was jokingly named the family PR, was usually the one to attend them and schedule when was the best time to have them over. Ashlyn's birthday was just days after the hypnosis session, but it fell on a Thursday, so their families had work and no chance of coming over until Sunday, when they'd host a mini barbecue if weather was good and with the closest family only, which meant that instead of having them come for her birthday, their friends would.

However, Ashlyn wasn't precisely in the ideal birthday mood. She felt luckier than ever for being able to celebrate a birthday that at points in prior weeks she hadn't thought would happen, but she was however emotionally drained after the hypnosis. What she had experienced reminded stuck in her memory as if it had never left, and even thought that meant it left her nightmares, giving her good nights of sleep, it also meant that if she had free time, she'd be thinking of it.

Orlando PD had continued to investigate and had found out that the plaque number Ashlyn identified as the one of the car her attacker drove was the number of a grey Mercedes, as Ashlyn had described. The owner was, however, an elderly man who had died during the summer, whose wife had senile dementia and was in an elderly home, without long-term memory. They had several children that were in their sixties and seventies, one of them, their main suspect, a policeman named Reginald, who was currently in Switzerland, which meant police couldn't get their hands on him for now. The car in question had disappeared, but police was looking for it. They had asked Reginald's siblings about it, but they all said it was in the care of 'Reggie', and they knew nothing of it. Reginald didn't leave in the Krieger-Harris area, but worked in a police station just a few blocks away, and according to his colleagues, his weapon used the same calibre as that which had shot Ashlyn, and he had been on compassionate leave since his Dad's death, so he wasn't working when Ashlyn was attacked, but according to his family, he was already in Europe back then.

On Ashlyn's birthday, Ali woke up so early it hurt, but rolled over with a grin and wrapped an arm around Ashlyn, kissing her jawline right by her ear, as the younger woman had rolled away in her sleep.

“Happy birthday my love,” Ali whispered.

“Thanks,” Ashlyn murmured against the pillow, barely waking up.

“I have to run some errands, but I'll be right back,” Ali added. “You stay with the boy, okay?”

“No prob. Where you goin'?” Ashlyn asked as Ali slid out of bed.

“Birthday surprise, can't tell.”

Because she knew everything Ashlyn talked about during her not-quite-awake times would be gone with the wind, Ali made sure to leave a note once she was completely ready to go, and, almost 7-months belly and all, got into her car and drove first to the airport to pick-up their friends, who had arranged their flights and connecting flights to coincide in the Orlando bound one, or arrive in flights with only an hour or two of difference. They had Alyssa Naeher, Crystal Dunn, Kelley O'Hara, Becky Sauerbrunn, Julie Ertz, Allie Long, Tobin Heath, Carli Lloyd, Christen Press and Megan Rapinoe. Some had already visited, but Ali had never known of a USWNT player and friend who skipped a party in the warm, nice Orlando, when given the perfect chance.

The first ones to arrive were the girls who had only been flying for less than three hours, all East Coast; Carli, Alyssa, Julie and Crystal. Since with Ali they were five, which was about as much as Ali's car could have, they had some drinks together and chatted about soccer, gossip, Ali's baby girl, and everyone's lives during the time at a bar, before Ali drove them home. Ali checked her family slept and there was still time until the girls with the longer 4 to 6h flights arrived from the West, so she took the girls to their three star hotel Ali had booked rooms for everyone in, and they agreed on meeting at a restaurant that was very close to the hotel at 11:30. The restaurant was within walking distance from the hotel, so the girls could rest for a bit.

Then, Ali returned to the airport to get Kelley, Becky and Christen, who came from Utah, and take them to the same hotel. They had time for a brief talk in the car, but they'd meet at 11 as well, and meanwhile the girls could sleep for a couple hours. Lastly, Ali went for a third airport trip and picked Megan, Allie and Tobin, doing the same trip to the hotel before going back home, tired of the car by then. She could've told them to get a taxi, but she insisted on being the most perfect host. In the end, they were the only ones who had been available to come from their old team, and she wanted to make sure to compensate.

“Where were you so long?” Ashlyn asked, sleepy, as she stood by the kitchen counter drinking a mug of special smoothie for her stomach with Finley sleeping against her shoulder, as Ali entered the house.

“Told you, preparing your birthday surprise. We're having a nice lunch in a nice restaurant,” Ali announced, grinning as she rushed to Ashlyn and kissed her. “Sexiest thirty-eight year old woman ever!” Ashlyn snorted a laugh.

“I'm old.”

“And I'm so glad you get to be old,” Ali kissed Finley as well.

“Didn't you just ruin the surprise telling me we're having lunch somewhere nice?”

“No, believe me you won't see it coming,” Ali winked. “Now, let me prepare birthday breakfast, you go to the sofa and chill.”

“You're too sweet and I'm bloody lucky.”

“Damn right you are.” Ali pinched her ass playfully and got on with late breakfast, making sure to make it light because Ashlyn still didn't eat like in the old days so much. “Very happy birthday, love,” Ali said minutes later, sitting by Ashlyn as she gave her the plate of one pancake with a heart drawn with chocolate syrup, and kissed her cheek.

“Aw, thank you baby, this is awesome. You know, I'm feeling very happy with being old.”

“You should! Other people don't get so lucky.”

Ashlyn grinned and nodded, stuffing her mouth with pancake and keeping a strong arm around their son.

“Let's take a selfie!” Ashlyn proposed. Ali chuckled holding her mobile in front of Ashlyn with the frontal camera activated, showing Ashlyn's chocolate-stained face, grinning big while Ali kissed her cheek and Finley slept against her chest.

While Ali showered and dressed-up, Ashlyn checked all the birthday love she got through texts and social media, and then posted the selfie they had taken, now that Finley had started to awake -and had kissed her happy birthday- and she had hands free.

' _Feeling more blessed and happier than ever to get 1 year older. Thanks to all my lucky stars for keeping me here and grace me with the most perfect wife and kiddos ever! Logan was busy eating a new bone in my honour ;) Feeling so special and loved already, thank you all for the kind messages!_ '

Ali wound see the publication after doing her make-up, as Ashlyn showered, and answered with a big smile in her face, feeling genuinely happy.

' _We are the lucky ones <3 So grateful to celebrate once more with you, my love! Can't wait for our sweet girl to meet her Mommy and become a fan like we do._'

Then, she compiled different photos of Ashlyn, from baby to teen, bride, momma of 1, momma of 2, and then one in which she was kneeling over Ali's legs to cup and kiss her belly, and Ali, who had been lying down, had photographed her from her own position. At the last minute, she also decided to add one of them kissing at home, both wearing their World Cup and Olympic Gold medals won together in 2019 and 2020, and made it so the photos could be passed clicking the side, instead of a collage. She cracked her fingers, determined to compose the cheesiest post, and set to write.

' _Today's a very special day because is this beauty's birthday!!! The world I knew for 14 months and a half wasn't nearly as awesome as it became when you, my love, came around to grace us with your smiles, your laughter, your kindness, your compassion, and your sick talent for everything, and today's the day we celebrate the best thing that ever happened to us. In 13 years, you've changed my life forever, and now that I look back weeks ago, when I had to hold our son and muster the strength to keep going even if I feared you wouldn't come with us, I feel just so incredibly lucky to get this precious extra time with you. Now is clearer than ever that getting old is a luxury I'll never again complain of, and I can't wait to celebrate a 100 more birthdays with you._

_Life with you is a constant thrill of adventure and laughter. Life with you is romantic walks in the doggie park, trips all around the world, dance parties with our favourite boy, late night conversations under the stars, and above it all, just so much love, much more than I ever thought I could feel or receive. Life with you has ups, downs, and is always perfect and something worth fighting for. Logan, Finley, our baby girl and myself are just so lucky to have you be our rock, our wife or mommy, to get to enjoy your amazing way of living life and to get inspired and strengthened by your courage, your toughness, your persistence and your huge heart. You bring the best in us, and make it so hard to choose just a few favourite memories because if you're in it, every minute is going to be fucking memorable._

_I hope you have a very happy 38 birthday my love, and you know, that one day you finally tell me how to get a year the wiser while still looking as smokin' hot as the day we met, since I'm your wife and all <3 Thank you for being the best mother I could've asked for our children, and the best wife, best friend, and teammate for life I could've ever dreamed of. Thank you for staying unapologetically you, and busting your ass off to be the best version of yourself you can be and inspiring us to do the same. I promise to always do whatever it takes to make you feel as loved and happy as you make us feel every day, and to always do my best to share with you a 100 birthdays more. Here's to you, my most badass inspiration <3 can't wait for our girl to meet you and see how she flips with her own luck the same ways Finn does every time you smile at him!_'

When Ashlyn made it out of the bathroom, wearing only a loosely tied bathrobe, Ali looked up at her from her position sitting on the feet of the bed, and felt herself get awestruck by her beauty, growling inside a little, which made Ashlyn laugh softly.

“What was that?” asked Ashlyn, amused, walking heavily to the closet to get some clothes. She was working with a therapist and a physical therapist simultaneously, because her body was yet to go back to itself.

Ashlyn had been reading about Antonius Wiriadjaja, a gun survivor who documented his recovery through photographs years before, and that had made her feel like she wasn't alone, and in fact, they both chatted sometimes via his blog, and via texting, now that they had exchanged numbers. He was fully recovered now, and provided an inspiration. She hadn't needed to walk on a cane like he had during the first few weeks post surgery, but she had also been an athlete, which helped. Now, however, it was still hard for Ashlyn to have long active days, and even though she'd sometimes skate, she knew she'd need a whole day of rest afterwards to recover. She still couldn't walk fast without being breathless, she still felt her body heavy more often than not, and although nightmares weren't much of a problem since the hypnosis, she still woke up in pain at times.

“Just marvelling at how sexy my wife is and how lucky I am,” Ali made her smile, and instants later, felt her wrapping her arms around her from behind. “I love you so much.” Ali's lips pressed against her shoulder.

“I love you too,” Ashlyn moved to kiss her cheek. “I'm a bit tired, we'll come home after lunch, right?”

“Yeah, and you can rest properly. I mean, if you don't feel like going out for lunch we can change plans, love,” Ali said, helping her get one of her nicest shirts.

“No, it's fine,” Ashlyn assured, sitting on the bed to get dressed. “Where are we going, by the way? I won't eat if it's a steak house.” She commented with a smirk. Ali knew perfectly well she barely ate these days, aside from juices, special smoothies recommended by the doctor, and soft foods.

“That new place they opened by Lake Orienta. I went in to make sure they had things you could eat, spoke with the chef and apparently the restaurant is specialized in sensitive stomachs and people who can't eat normally. They have vegan stuff, soft stuff, things for all sorts of allergies and intolerances... it's great, you'll like it.”

“You're the most thoughtful, caring soul in the world, I swear,” Ashlyn shook her head in disbelief. “I don't know how I ever did life without you.”

“That's my job,” Ali looked lovingly at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, “make sure you always wonder how.”

She closed the shirt over the angry dark pink scar as she buttoned Ashlyn's shirt for her, one of the newer shirts Ali had gotten her because it was super soft, which was better for her wound. For weeks, she hadn't had any sensation in the scar, but now it was hyper sensitive, so normal clothes wouldn't do. She hadn't even used a bra since getting shot out of how sensitive everything felt.

“I finally touched it,” Ashlyn commented casually, her voice low on energy, as it had been for weeks, because energy was still running low.

“Did you?” Ali looked surprised. “And did you look?”

“No,” Ashlyn shrugged. “I just feel for my woopsies and clean there.”

Woopsie was the word they sometimes used to refer to their parts, because Finley was still learning about which things weren't acceptable to say in public, and had more than once said things a little coarse in the wrong moments. Ali, however, still broke into smile when she heard the word 'woopsie' coming from an adult, but Ashlyn, who cursed just so much, had had no option but to incorporate it into her daily language into sometimes funny ways, like angrily saying 'woopsie woops!' instead of 'fucking shit' if Finley was present, and consequently giving them just so much laughter.

“So what happened?” asked Ali gently.

“I accidentally brushed it with my fingers when I was doing the boob revision,” the typical touching around the breasts in prevention for breast cancer that they had gotten used to do. “And it hurt, actually. It felt like burning. And then I cried.”

“Oh, Ash...”

“I cried out of anger more than pain. I can't believe a f- cop...” Ashlyn shook her head. “Are we ever going to feel safe, Alex?”

“We'll do our best,” Ali hugged her, pressing her chin against her shoulder carefully. “We'll do whatever it takes. Do you want to talk with Antonius before we leave?”

“No,” Ashlyn sighed. “Day 41 post shooting. Just get through today, and I'm one day closer to okay.”

“Okay,” Ali nodded. “We'll do this together, uh?”

“As always,” Ashlyn managed a smile. “Now tell me again how sexy I look?”

  
  



	13. 38 years the wiser

**Chapter 13: 38 years the wiser.**

“Are we ready?” Ali asked, and laughed as Finley raised his arms up from his car seat and yelled 'Yay!'. Ashlyn sat next to him in the back and smiled, high-fiving the boy as Ali drove away from their home.

The drive was less than ten minute long, but Ali knew it was far less exhausting on her family if she drove, than if they had to walk thirty minutes with Finley, who could make it forty or fifty minutes instead. Ashlyn didn't have the energy for that just yet.

The once goalkeeper only needed one minute to fall asleep, despite Finley singing 'baby shark' at top volume. He was out of tune and didn't quite know the lyrics, but that didn't disturb Ashlyn in the slightest, and so Ali woke her up with kisses when she had parked in the restaurant lot and pulled Finley into his stroller. He had already eaten at home, so now he was ready for nap time, as Ali had planned.

“Hungry?” Ali asked as Ashlyn closed the car door and took over stroller duty, straightening her jacket.

“Not much, but happy to be here,” Ashlyn pulled from her hand to kiss her mouth. “Thanks for making my birthday so special every single year.”

“Not a big deal, you make 365 days a year so special.”

“Smooth, Kriegs,” Ashlyn chuckled, and they walked together inside.

Because Ali had reservations pretty much since Ashlyn left the hospital, reservations she had called to make sure weren't forgotten every single week since, they got the best table, in the private exclusive area, in a quiet corner with big windows that had the best views of the lake. To Ashlyn's surprise, when she looked up she saw their table was bigger than expected, and twelve of her favourite people were just standing from it with big smiles to receive them. Kelley, Crystal, Alyssa, Carli, Pinoe, Christen, Tobin, Allie, Becky, and Julie had been joined by Sydney and Alex, and it was clear this was a girls' lunch save for Finley, while other husbands and wives took care of their kids back at home in their respective states.

“Oh my God, I can't fucking believe it,” Ashlyn quickly forgot about 'whoopsie' as she hugged her friends, some of them people she hadn't seen in months, while others had been around at the hospital.

“You wouldn't think we wouldn't come and check on our favourite keeper, uh?” Alyssa chuckled, and they sat together, while Ali sat on the other side of Ashlyn keeping the stroller within arm reach. Sleeping Finley was already getting all the attention.

While they had drinks and waited for the food, Ali enjoyed sitting back and watching her wife almost be her usual self, asking a ton of questions about everyone's lives and hearing everyone's stories. Almost the whole group was married and either with kids or planning on them now, and everyone had so much to catch up on, and despite it being Ashlyn's birthday, she spent a good hour and a half just hearing what had been going on with everybody, true to her usual self. Their daughter was expected to arrive either late in December or early in January, so they also talked about that, and since Ashlyn was the first one to finish eating, because she ate just a tiny little bit every few hours, she was back at asking questions quicker than anyone.

“So,” Julie put down her glass of wine, her light eyes finding Ashlyn's hazel ones across the table,“still no idea who shot you?”

“Actually, we might know,” answered Ashlyn, who leaned back in her seat as her stomach did its best to digest the delicious meal. “Good news is he's apparently in Europe, so not an immediate danger, bad news is he could still be completely innocent.”

“Elaborate,” Kelley petitioned.

“I've done forensic hypnosis,” said Ashlyn. “To remember what happened and help the police, that was stuck. And according to that, I was attacked by a policeman, but it's not... 100% trustworthy.”

“Why? What's forensic hypnosis, like the movies?” Pinoe inquired then. Ashlyn looked at Ali, who was the one who knew more about it.

“Not really,” Ali chimed in, “it's a method of hypnosis sometimes used by the police to help witnesses or victims give a more exact and detailed testimony. Works by getting the person to be in such a relaxed state while at the same time, hyper-focused, that they can immerse in the memory and get information that before was... buried deep. In Ash's case, it was hard to remember because of concussion plus psychological trauma, so we thought perhaps hypnosis could do something, and police agreed.”

“Okay, so what exactly happened?” Crystal intervened, her dark eyes fixed on the matrimony.

“We did it earlier this week, and it was just so incredible,” replied Ashlyn. “It was like watching a videogame in flashes organized in chronological order, going faster when there was nothing particularly attention-calling, and slowing down with things that were harder to process. I could like... smell the rain, hear it... and then I could hear the hypnotist talking to me as if I was under water and she was out, and talk back.”

“Sounds quite cool,” Carli admitted, interested. “So it helped?”

“Sort of. I could relive everything without problem. I went to our friend Marc Skinner's house, he's the Pride's coach for four years now, and then left to go home. On the way, I saw a white policeman being excessively aggressive with a black teen, and I don't know if it was because I thought a person older and with so much authority was exceeding it with a minor, or if I thought it was racism, or both, but I just had to intervene and then the kid ran away and the policeman took it with me.”

“And he shot you? For that?” Tobin scowled, indignant.

“Well, we started fighting like crazy,” Ashlyn recalled, “and you know I've always been a little too savage, I should've shut up, I should've apologized, I should've self-preserved, but I had to be the rebel and... I made him very furious. He was calling me a dyke and telling me to get in my own fucking business, threatening with arresting me and making charges up to ruin my life, and of course I was shouting back and then... now I don't remember it as if the memory came entirely back, but in the hypnosis, reliving that, I could feel again what I felt then, and I was terrified like, really terrified. I had this feeling of being in danger, one I already had when walking around I discovered the place where hypnosis agreed I was shot. So the tension snapped and I saw him make a move for his gun, and I ran like hell. That was probably a mistake as well, but I don't know... I guess I reacted on instinct. Anyway, I ran through streets I've known for years, but I guess in the frenzy, and with the storm breaking on top of us and worsening the visibility between rain and fog, I must've gotten disoriented and took the wrong turn, so I appeared in the dead-end where I was shot.”

“Did you relive...” Sydney puffed, not knowing how to phrase it delicately. “Being shot?” Ashlyn nodded. “Jesus Christ...”

“Yeah, I lost my shit a little then,” Ashlyn admitted. “It was weird, because I knew what it was going to happen. I ran to jump on the skip and jump over the wall like I must've done hundreds of times in my teens, gee, Whit knows it... but I was shot from behind mid-jump, slipped with the wet skip, face first against the verge of the skip and then the ground. It's how I actually broke my face and got all those bruises, I wasn't beaten-up.”

“But Ali found you somewhere else, didn't she?” Allie remembered, intervening. “How did you get to the other place, by yourself?”

“No,” Ashlyn shook her head. “Next I knew I was in the trunk of a car. I remembered the plaque number right a second before I was carried inside the trunk. And then, when the cop pulled me out, he had me in his arms, so I could see the police plaque and a wedding band, and the colour of the car I was being pulled from. He threw me to the grass, and that's where Ali found me. But it must've been the longest time in-between, because I could remember lying there for quite a long time, unable to speak or grab my phone and call for help, I guess because of how bad it was. My phone wouldn't have worked anyway, since it broke with the fall and when water went in, there was no chance at all. But whatever I saw doesn't have any value if police cannot prove that's what happened, they said the story made sense because the bullet wound I have matches with the gun cops usually use, and with the hole found in that wall. A hole that's at the precise height it would be if it had gone through me the way I think it did, and the plaque number I gave them is of a car exactly like the one I described, that happens to be property of the father of a cop who works around here and who matches the description I gave and happens to be married. But they said that cop and his wife are in Switzerland at the moment, so in the meantime they're trying to find the boy I saw, but chances are he'll get scared at the minimal sign of police tailing him, and run. And they've already found people in a flat right by where I was shot that said they might've heard the shooting, but that they thought it was thunder. So... it doesn't seem like a crazy story anymore. And it explains things I've dreamt.”

They sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, assimilating the news.

“Do you think” Alyssa started after a while, taking a sip from her beer “that is possible that he thought you were a criminal?”

“No,” Ashlyn shrugged. “I told them I had done nothing wrong, I raised my hands up, I showed I had no weapons and I told him I just wanted to go back to my baby son at different times during our encounter. Yet he shot me. The fucker knew what he was doing.”

“At least you can breathe calm now, a little,” Alex commented. “I mean, you know he's across the ocean.”

“I know that's what police says, but he could just be hiding,” Ashlyn shrugged. “There were workmates who said he was also in Switzerland when I was attacked, that he was on compassionate leave after his Dad died in the summer. But if he was there, then how come I remember him? I was abroad with the World Cup myself, then busy with retiring from soccer completely, if he wasn't in Orlando, I couldn't have seen him before to describe him so accurately, unless he did attack me, in which case he was here and we have no guarantees he isn't now. I won't breathe calm until the son of a bitch who shot me goes to prison for life with no doubt he did it, and God knows that's not going to happen any time soon.”

Hours later, Ali carefully closed their bedroom door to let Ashlyn nap in peace, and wrapping an arm around her belly, made her way carefully but surely to the living room, from where Finley's laughter emanated, as his aunties played with him. He was now awake and full of energy, flashing his cute dimple and hazel eyes to everyone and melting hearts.

“He looks so much like Ash!” Tobin commented, tickling the boy until he was almost breathless.

“Yes, he does,” Ali smiled at them, letting herself flop on the sofa. Her feet were a bit swollen by now, and she was feeling enormous.

“Can't wait until the little one gets out, uh?” Sydney empathized, patting her belly gently.

“You know it!”

“Mama, Mama!” Finley held onto Ali's knees for stability. “Dance pawty pweasy!”

“Oh, baby we can't make a dance party while Mommy sleeps, we'll wake her up. We do it in a bit, okay? Later.” He pouted but nodded.

“Wimma wimma soft?” Finley suggested then.

“The Jungle song soft?” Ali asked, and he nodded a lot. She chuckled and pulled her phone. “Okay...” she put her volume to a minimum and put the jungle song, setting her phone on the coffee table for him to jump around and dance, singing along softly and making them laugh. They weren't letting him use earphones because he wasn't very careful with them yet.

“He's just the worst,” Becky joked looking amused at the boy.

“Poor thing struggles a little with the circumstances,” Ali commented, “he misses Ash. He hadn't seen her much already all summer with the soccer and now this... we can't play much with him either in the physical way he likes. I'm huge, and last time Ash did so much as skating she had cramps for a whole day afterwards, with the wound and all.”

“Well soon he'll have a little sister to stay entertained,” Pinoe commented, dancing with Finley.

“No, they'll have to give the baby as much attention as possible and then more,” Sydney corrected. “Finn will have to get used to being a bit solo.”

“We'll have to stretch,” Ali admitted. “Hopefully by then Ashlyn's better enough to devote more to him.”

After her nap, Ashlyn was, like her son, ready for a party, so they got some dancing going in the house, to Finley's amusement, and Ali brought some light sweets she had made with a few symbolic candles on top so they could sing her happy birthday and she could blow her candles.

That night, when Ashlyn woke up after having accidentally rolled on her wound and hurt herself, she snuggled closer to Ali, watching as she slept, and cupped her belly with her arm, listening to the brunette's slow breathing. She couldn't help thinking about how much more complicated things could get once Robin came around, and she still feared anybody else got hurt. It didn't matter that she just had a perfect birthday, she was already in defensive mode, and in that moment, she swore to herself she wouldn't let anything happen to her family.

  
  



	14. Germanyay

**Chapter 14: Germanyay.**

Reginald 'Reggie' Palmer had been born in Seattle, Washington, several decades before Ashlyn, and yet they weren't all that different, as it turned out. Reggie's family was poor through his childhood, and he had been a drug addict. Getting clean, landing a job in the police, and providing for his family along with his siblings, had improved the family situation greatly, and now he was respected for being a caring, hard-working man. Which was why it made little to no sense, once the information came out, that he had gone and hurt anyone.

On Halloween, Ashlyn was called to identify him. She stood behind a glass with Ali and watched as the detectives interrogated him, asking about the length of his trip, insinuating he had been seen around a crime zone in September when he was supposedly in Europe, inquiring about every single detail, as police was still looking for his car. Ashlyn looked at the suspect and she was certain he had shot her. His looks, his voice, it just made her skin fill with bumps and her heart race to the point that Ali sensed it and wrapped an arm around her and another around her seven-months bump, protective.

According to Reggie, his father's Mercedes had been stolen, and he didn't know where it was. He hadn't reported it because as a policeman himself, he figured he'd investigate it when he was ready to go back to work. And no, he didn't think this was odd. He had been in Switzerland when Ashlyn was shot, but he wasn't going to let police check his gun for evidence without a judicial order. And if he had been identified by a witness as the shooter, then the witness was wrong.

The judge didn't think there was enough to give an order, not for the weapon and not for his house, and Reggie's wife was a perfect alibi, so the investigation seemed stuck once more. And then, on a rainy, chill November day, Ashlyn decided she'd had enough. She was relaxing home after a long PT and therapy day, with Logan, Ali and Finley now taking a nap together, when the reality of the situation generated a sudden outburst of anger that prompted for her to create a blog called 'Make a difference', and with her signature photoshoped into a corner of the logo. She kept the design simple, and wrote the first post trying not to let anger take over too much.

' _November 9_ _th_ _2023._

_My name is Ashlyn M. Krieger-Harris and I'm 38. You may know me for being a World Cup Champion and Olympian as a former goalkeeper for the US Women's National Soccer Team, you may know me for having been the captain and goalkeeper for Orlando Pride for a bunch of years, or you may know me as the small-town girl who loved to surf, skate, and spend her days in the streets of Satellite Beach. You also may not know me at all, and that's perfect as well. All that you should know is that I'm a wife and a mother of doggie Logan (5), and my boy Finley (2) and to-be-born princess, and that on the evening of September 8_ _th_ _, two months ago, I was shot from behind while walking home in Altamonte Springs, Orlando, and I only survived to tell the story thanks to pure luck and the skills and dedication of the incredible medical teams of Orlando, Florida._

_There has not been a moment in my life in which I fancied guns, and growing-up seeing kids get shot in schools made me think this was a crazy country, and made the decision of bringing kids into it particularly hard. But like many of you, I fell in love and got hopes and dreams with my wife, our main idea being a nice, calm life in Orlando with a bunch of kids, kicking balls for a living for as possible. We figured we would be capable of protecting our children. We've stood against bullying our whole lives, the both of us, we're athletes, we can punch fairly nicely, and we'd raise them with love so they'd know not to get into unnecessary trouble. We'd teach them to drive safe, do sports with safety and precaution first, and they'd never have to get too hurt under any circumstance, and by the time they grew the US would have such strict gun laws, like other countries such as Spain or Portugal, that being shot while in school wouldn't be something we'd have to worry about._

_I know, we're so naïve!_

_Today, I'm approaching you to ask for you to please help me push the US, or at least Florida (because we all know if one starts the others may follow, right?) to make such strict gun laws, since the ones we have nowadays are A JOKE, that being shot in the street while walking home to your 2-year-old son and pregnant wife is an odd thing instead of something sort of common, that being shot while going to class becomes a rarity and not the daily news it is today, and that the only people allowed to carry and use guns are people who have passed truly strict psychological tests, people who truly need them for a living, people with no record, people over 21 years of age, people truly responsible, and people who are never allowed more than the simplest of guns and never outside their homes unless they work in law enforcement. And maybe that way our teachers won't be told to learn to shoot an automatic in order to keep their students safe, right?_

_All I want is a safer world for my children, like many of you. I don't give A SHIT about anyone's reasons to defend guns so please save them. Save them, because I've lived in Germany and Sweden, I've been all over the world, I've got friends all over, and ALL OF THEM FLIP with what we have here. All of them have a hard time believing we let this happen, something I've never seen in a foreign country._

_And honestly, I'm exhausted. I'm so emotionally drained, knowing my shooter is still out there free, knowing I can't ensure my two-year-old won't get shot and suffer what I'll never forget, that my wife and I recently reached a firm determination:_

_EITHER US TAKES FIRM MEASSURES TO STRENGTHEN THEIR LAWS AND ACTIVELY FIGHT GUN VIOLENCE BEFORE DECEMBER 31ST, OR WE WILL FLEE THE COUNTRY._

_As you heard. We will pack our bags, leave our family and friends, and emigrate anywhere that has decent laws that actually do care about protecting their citizens. And we will take our precious children and fight so they can get double nationality or new ones, and have our future children abroad so they instantly have other nationalities that allow them to stay far away from this mess until the US gets its act together.5 years, 50 years? Whatever it takes. Because I'd rather go through the pain of losing all we've built and start over abroad than going through the pain of burying my children or another family member, or having them bury me. I know my attacker may never get arrested, but now that I know how it feels like to almost die from a bullet, I can't help but be fuelled to the top of my lungs of all it takes to fight so my kids don't live what I've lived._

_If you wish to collaborate, join my campaign (I'll post details ASAP), call your senators, post tantrums in the media or write articles if you're a journo. Go out on the street and complain. I promise I'll start organized actions soon, as we have very little time, so stay tuned and join me. And politicians, you can start fearing the rage of a very angry mom, because I'm going to give you reasons._

_Let's change the world. Not for me. For our kids. And for all of those we didn't save._

_Ash xx_ '

She instantly added links to her post in every social account she had, and texted it to their families and friends. Then, she created a simple gmail account, theashlynshooting@gmail.com, and finally, added a second post in her blog, necessary for the plan that was plotting in her head:

' _HELP ME CATCH MY ATTACKER_

_Between 8 and 11:30 PM of September 8 th I was shot from behind while walking home from a friend's house, a less than 20 minute distance, in Altamonte Springs, Orlando (Florida). The bullet went through my torso, and the doctors had to remove my left kidney and tiny parts of my stomach, pancreas and diaphragm. I was also either beaten or fell, because I sustained a concussion that provoked some degree of amnesia, and fractured my left cheekbone._

_Police has been investigating for now 2 months, and although there have been small victories, we're still a long way from finding-out who shot me, which means that right now there's a very dangerous someone walking freely around Orlando or somewhere else in the world, if they've run away. That's why now, I'd like to ask for your help, to, if you have any relevant information, or know something you think could help, email me to theashlynshooting@gmail.com with the information. This is not a fan email, okay? I'll only accept the emails with believable information I can pass on to the police to help catch a criminal, not any other, that will be deleted straight away._

_My memories of the event are, thanks to the concussion and PTSD, hard to trust and possibly inaccurate. But I do have a strong feeling that before I was shot, I saw someone being verbally abusive with a young black boy. I believe I confronted this someone and the youngster ran away, and I believe the person who was insulting him and who I confronted is the same one that later shot me. So if that young black boy is out there, and is reading me, can you please reach out to me, buddy? I want to protect you, and I promise you can trust me. I won't let whoever bastard came against you reach you again, but I need your help._

_Thanks everyone,_

_Ash xx_ '

Like with her prior post, this one was also shared everywhere. She had just taken a deep breath to relax when she heard a strong yawn and saw her wife walking over to her in very short shorts and a huge t-shirt, looking sleepy, with her hair a bird's nest of dark waves. And she was breathtakingly gorgeous.

“Hello sleeping beauty,” Ashlyn smiled at her, closing her laptop and leaning back opening her arms. Ali smiled back sleepy and sat on her knees, nuzzling into her neck as Ashlyn wrapped her arms around her.

“I missed you,” Ali murmured.

“I'm right here. The kiddos still sleeping?”

“Yeah, put a bunch of pillows so no one falls. Not like Finn moves much in his sleep though, he's like the dead.”

“I made a blog,” said Ashlyn, “to get people to help with catching this bastard and to promote actions against gun violence. I don't know, coordinated protests or something, I'll discuss it with our agency.”

“Okay...” Ali put a hand on her shoulder and closed her eyes, relaxing.

“And I told everyone we'll leave if no one takes steps to improve gun laws before the new year.” Ali let a long breath out, but nodded.

“That's all right.”

“Are you sure you're still on board with this?”

Ali's hand moved from her shoulder to her cheek to guide her eyes to her own brown eyes as she looked up to the younger woman, looking serious.

“I thought you'd bleed out in my arms, Ashlyn. I brought you here, laid you in our bed, and covered my hands in your blood as I was trying to save you because I didn't think I could safely get you to a hospital that seemed just too far.” Ashlyn scowled.

“What? You never-,”

“I wanted to keep that image from your head, but maybe honesty should've gone first. That's what happened. And Mum had to drive you to the hospital because we decided that if there was an accident and something happened on the way there, better she and you die, than you, our unborn daughter and myself.” Ali murmured.

“Alex, that's just-,”

“Tremendous. I know. The point is, Ash, I'd like to one day stop dreaming you bleed out in my hands. I aged thirty years in three weeks, and quite frankly, I don't think I can live raising our family and constantly afraid. School should be a safe place, not... not be having me anguished wondering whether we've prepared the kids enough on how to do in case of a shooting or how to give first aid to gunshot wounds. All those years in Frankfurt, these things didn't happen. Look, Germany has some of the strictest gun laws in the world, is one of the countries with the most guns, and yet with the least shootings. There, I was always chill, not with this... anguish in my heart, Ashlyn. There, I saw the life with many of the things I'd like our kids to have. The food, the landscapes, the hardworking culture, the safety, the opportunities, the diversity, the different cultures, so many countries so close, good education and public healthcare. We can be happy there, Ashlyn. So my proposal is, if we can't make a better world here for them... let's go back to Frankfurt. We were once happy there, right? And you are familiar with German, and I can teach you all, I haven't lost it. I'm not just on board with things, Ashlyn, I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to start over again. You can work for Umbro there, and design, and anything you want, and I can do soccer there, and Finley is still young to easily learn German. And Logan will love the awesome German grass.”

Ashlyn grinned from ear to ear, feeling a weight lifted off her chest.

“I think I remember your obsession for good green grass,” Ashlyn joked, and Ali giggled, kissing her softly. “I mean, we don't have to go forever, right? We could keep this house, and leave for a five years or so, maybe ten or more... And if things improve here... go back so we can all be with our families and friends here.”

Ali nodded slowly, then had a sudden crazy thought and looked very seriously at Ashlyn, who raised eyebrows questioningly.

“This may sound crazy but what if we leave... now? Have Robin be born in Frankfurt, she'll have dual citizenship.”

“Wait, what?”

“Ash, think about it. We pack our things, leave now. Where you are safe, and we're all safe. I can start my maternity leave in advance or fucking resign, and you can work anywhere. Finley can be changed of nursery at any time, he doesn't even have friends in this one yet, so no harm done. We'll tell him it's a holiday. Let police resolve things here, and when they do, if we feel like it, we come back. We can put this house for rent to make sure it's taken care of, whatever.”

“Ali, don't you think it's a bit abrupt?”

“Not if we think of it as a holiday. We can fly back as soon as Robin is a month old.”

“Your OB/GYN is here.”

“So? We'll get another, and we'll get you good doctors there, they have incredible PT and therapists there. Ash, it's my second, I'm way more confident than with Finley, can do it with anyone. Come on Ash, one last crazy adventure so my end of pregnancy can be calm, and so can Robin's beginning. We're too stressed here.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, each trying to figure out how determined the other was to take such a step, and then Ashlyn nodded.

“Let's fucking go.”

  
  



	15. Frankfurt

**Chapter 15: Frankfurt.**

To say their families and friends flipped was an understanding. Ashlyn and Ali stated that they were both having a truly difficult time mentally and emotionally, which wasn't really lying, and they urgently needed a change of environment for their own sakes before they crumbled. And Frankfurt, where their relationship first got serious, had good memories and a white Christmas, and their families were instantly invited over any time. In all honesty, they had both worried about the effects of so much stress and anxiety on the pregnancy, and Ashlyn could feel her mental health crumbling until suddenly moving to Frankfurt for an undefined amount of time seemed like a fantastic idea.

By mid November, they had found a house to rent in Frankfurt, packed a few big suitcases, told Finley about the family holiday, and were almost ready to move. They were hosting Thanksgiving with their families to compensate for not being in America for Christmas, New Year's and Robin's arrival, and even though no one had taken the news happily, they had all been understanding and agreed that perhaps it was best if they left for a while.

“What about doctors?” Tammye asked during a visit.

“My OB/GYN has spoken about our situation with a friend and colleague in Frankfurt that she could recommend me,” said Ali. “We've already spoken on the phone and it's all organized. And the house we've rented is close enough to vets and a hospital, so if Ashlyn or Logan need anything, we're there.”

It was weeks of coordinating, but they were confident they'd be able to go after Thanksgiving, for the moment giving their house keys to Sydney, Alex, and Ashlyn's brother and parents, so they could check everything was all right every now and then. Their property was fenced, so it should be safe, but it had still been their home for so long they didn't want anything happening to it while they were gone. Nevertheless, Ashlyn found herself having a great sense of vertigo from leaving. Ali was surprisingly more firm and determined, but Ashlyn, even though in her mind knew it was their best decision, in her heart suffered it greatly.

“It'll be okay baby,” Ali comforted her during a break-down one night.

“Fucking jerks...” Ashlyn cried. “G-gonna f-force us out of our h-home!”

“Home is where the heart is, my love,” Ali assured, her heart tough with the relief going to Frankfurt gave her. She had missed Germany, she had meant for Finley to some day know Germany, but at this point, perhaps due to the way Ashlyn's shooting had traumatized them both, she didn't feel calm in American soil. She felt she was always on the verge of an anxiety attack, and she never wanted to go to the park or walk around. The idea of getting out of that was just such a relief she didn't feel completely sad for leaving, although she knew she would once they were in Germany. “We'll stick together. We'll make anywhere our home.” Ashlyn nodded against her shoulder. “Besides, we'll return one day. This is temporary.”

“Do you think Finley will hate us?” Ashlyn asked hoarsely when she could stop crying, looking up at her with eyes full of sadness.

“Finley? An adventurous boy who's going to live in a house with a huge garden and huge trees just like the ones he adores in DC? He's going to hate coming back, if anything,” Ali smiled, kissing her softly. “We're protecting our family. That's all. Doesn't have to be forever. It's not that different from when we went abroad for soccer, if you think about it. And it'll be good for us, for our mental health.”

Ashlyn nodded, knowing she was right. She did want to go, it just broke her heart to leave Florida, her forever home, due to something so terrible as being shot. In the positive side, they had, with their agency, started a campaign to push for better gun laws that had become so powerful, and so supported in the social media, that it had reached the TV and just the day before, Satellite Beach's mayor, who was Ashlyn's friend's uncle, had publicly declared his full support to the cause and was using politics to put pressure on senators, getting other mayors to join the movement with success. It seemed like Florida's laws could change, even if perhaps not in all of America yet.

“You need this too, don't you?” Ashlyn murmured, just to be sure. Ali nodded.

“I feel the stress, Ash. I can't be here much longer. And I fear for Robin. And you've got PTSD to worry about. We'd both be in anxiolytic and all if our bodies could take it, by now.”

They had read enough about pregnancy during Finley's and Robin's pregnancies to know that emotional trauma during pregnancy increased the chances of abortions, malformations, heart issues, or autism. It affected the development of the baby in ways so complex that it could mean having a more anxious baby or improving Robin's chances of developing mental health issues. So their worry wasn't a product of their imagination.

“I'll get you out of here,” Ashlyn promised, hugging her wife as they sat in bed. “I'll take care of you.”

The next morning, unexpectedly, Ashlyn received a call from Detective Ghets as they were having breakfast. They had found Reggie Palmer's car and wanted for Ashlyn to see if she could identify it, although it had the same plaque number and description Ashlyn had already given. It had been found, suspiciously, in a lake, with rocks inside to keep in the depths of the lake. But some witnesses had called the police and they had rescued the car.

“I'll drive you,” Ali offered after her wife told her the news, but Ashlyn shook her head.

“I'd rather you stay home, look after our family,” Ashlyn said. “It's not far, I can drive five minutes.”

“Be careful.”

Ashlyn drove to the police station as soon as she was ready, and Detective Ghets took her to the garage where the forensics were still working to get some evidence. The car was badly damaged, but Ashlyn recognized it.

“Yeah,” Ashlyn felt chills just by being close, “definitely. May I see the trunk?”

“Sure.”

The trunk only provided further confirmation. Ashlyn touched it, and the surface texture gave her an immediate flashback, even through the mandatory plastic gloves.

“No doubt,” Ashlyn affirmed.

“There's something more,” Detective Ghets said. “I wanted you to recognize the vehicle before I told you. The car was actually found yesterday, and we already got some DNA samples from the trunk. It was difficult due to the time in the lake and the fact that someone had deliberately been trying to clean it with chemical products, but we found a hair whose DNA said it's yours, and blood. Your blood.” Ashlyn took a deep breath and nodded.

“Then this is it, uh? What I saw was what happened.”

“So far that's what evidence says, yes. Still going to Germany?”

“Yeah. I need to find somewhere where my wife can chill and not stress, and I'm dreading the effects this will have on our daughter. She was five months along and picking-up my half dead body from the ground covered in my own blood, I don't know how my family will recover but Frankfurt offers better chances.”

“Agreed. We'll stay in touch, okay?”

“Sure. And Detective Ghets...” Ashlyn shrugged, suddenly shy. “I can't thank you enough. I know this is your job and they pay you, but... still, I think you're doing a remarkable job and you're protecting my family and uh...” she felt her own eyes fill with tears. She was so emotional lately. “Look, I don't even care about revenge anymore. I just want for my family to be safe. That's all.”

“I won't let anything happen to them,” Detective Ghets promised, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Go, keep them somewhere nice, try to move on.”

“You're going to arrest him now, won't you?”

“I already did. He hasn't confessed, but a team is registering his house right now, and they've already found badly cleaned blood stains here and there that I'm sure will match your DNA. We made public a photo of him requesting that anybody who's been hurt or threatened by him in any way informs us, in hopes of finding that kid too. This is pretty much done.”

Back home, Ashlyn told Ali everything. They sat together on the sofa while Logan took a nap on a corner of it and Finley played in his bedroom, and even though Ali felt immensely relieved, she couldn't help but notice Ashlyn looked immensely crestfallen.

“So why are you so sad about it?” Ali asked at last, worrying.

“Because,” Ashlyn leaned back with her hands intertwined hanging between her knees and a deflated expression, “it's the confirmation that a policeman did, in fact, shot me. A policeman fucking almost killed me, Alex.” She looked up at Ali and as the brown eyes fixed on the hazel ones, she understood, and felt her pain.

This was the confirmation that something as unbearably horrible as a cop, someone who you are supposed to trust to protect you, shooting Ashlyn. In a way that could've been fatal if it hadn't been for, admittedly, great luck. And it wasn't a fact that they had hoped to be true. Ashlyn had somehow hoped to be proven wrong, not to have to believe that she had been close to the grave thanks to a police officer. But he had done it, and now her eyes were glassy but emotionless, dead inside, wondering if she'd ever be able to trust an armed officer or guard again, as every time she stepped in the station she got horrible anxiety from seeing the officers. Detective Ghets at least had the courtesy of hiding her gun from her view.

Ali let a long breath out, feeling the sadness inside, and wrapped her arms around Ashlyn, pulling her in so the beach girl's cheek pressed against her chest and her own chin pressed against the shorter hair, where she buried a hand, leaving the other on her wife's arm to keep her close, as Ashlyn wrapped her arms around her back and belly.

“We're going to get over this,” Ali said, determined, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “I don't know how or when, but there will come a day when we don't even think about this. You know there are good people and bad people. Some good people have an orange uniform and are between bars. Some bad people have a badge and a gun. But thanks to you, one more bad person will be where it should be, and not out here hurting people. Let's focus on that.”

However, the circumstances did make the decision of leaving easier for Ashlyn. Both Ashlyn and Ali knew that the least they could do is inform their fans, but also leave it clear that they weren't playing around; if Florida at least took steps to improve gun laws, they'd return, but if it didn't, they would stay away. So after Thanksgiving, when everything was ready for them to move out and their house was empty save for some boxes here and there, and others had already been sent to their new house in Frankfurt, where their landlady would make sure the boxes were left inside, safely, they decided it was time to announce things. They had used Thanksgiving to have Kyle take a family photo of them sitting together, kissing, with Finley on Ashlyn's lap and Logan lying before them, and Ashlyn would use her blog to give the news. Ali would copy her post into her own blog as well.

' _Friends, Ali and I have important news for you._

_When I arrived to Orlando 7 years ago I thought this was my forever. We planned for Ali to eventually, when she was ready and the time was right, join me here, and once that happened we quickly made Orlando, and Florida, our home. Our baby Logan was born in Orlando, so was our boy Finley, we got engaged in the Florida beaches, and married under the Miami night. And we wanted so badly for our baby girl to also be born in Florida. We wanted forever in Florida, where I grew up and where most of our family lives as well. Where we've taken the biggest steps in our relationship and created so many incredible memories._

_Which is why it hurts so much to leave. But we have no choice, as for now._

_In a matter of days, Logan, Finley, Ali and myself will be making a home in Europe. It's all planned, sorted and ready, but we won't tell the exact location because we feel safer that way. It'll just be Europe. Ali has some of her best lifetime memories in Germany, and our love pretty much became serious between Germany and, mostly, Sweden. We won our first World Cup playing side-by-side in France, shared incredible memories in Portugal and Spain, and our first family holiday was in Italy, so Europe has had a big part of our hearts for a long time, and it wasn't hard to choose the new destination. The difference is, every time we went we knew we'd be back. Now, we're not sure. For now all we know for sure is that we want our baby girl to be born overseas and have dual citizenship, we know Finley will resume her nursery school in the new country, we've found a pet school for Logan, and we have our own job possibilities, so we're prepared to stay here as long as we have to._

_How long will we stay, are you coming back?_

_If Florida improves their gun laws before New Year's, so we and everybody else can feel fully safe here, we will be back once our baby girl is big enough to be allowed in a plane back, which will be about January or February. If not, we'll stay here as many years as we have to wait until that happens, with an option to make it permanent if by the time things change we've been abroad so many years that it feels more home for our children than Florida._

_Why are we leaving? Is it just because of gun laws?_

_Well, that's a big reason. Everything we've said before, those were big reasons. So really the question is why are we leaving now instead of not leaving at all, as was the original plan, if Florida did its part with gun violence?_

_Those reasons are even more personal. Truth is on September both Ali and I were intensely traumatized. Ali went through things I don't wish on anybody, all of that while heavily pregnant, and all the stress, anxiety and anguish we live with is not good for her pregnancy. It has come to a point in which we fear for our daughter, so we've decided we need a change of environment, a safe refugee where we feel truly safe and secure and where Ali can fully relax like she should be doing, as pregnant as she is. We wouldn't be able to fly if we waited until she was more pregnant,and we wanted to make sure our daughter was born in a more relaxed environment. This get out should also do me wonders,as I've been struggling with my mental health for nearing 2 months now. So the reasons are, put simply, one: to do what we think is best for our family. Get somewhere where we can recover properly and move on._

_We'll still work in the same stuff we've worked since retirement, once Ali comes from maternal leave and I feel ready to work again. Nothing's gonna change. We'll just be super secretive about our living arrangements, because that's how we feel safe, at least until the person who shot me is condemned for his crimes._

_Lastly, we'd like to give a big shootout and thank our families, friends, the people who will care for our Florida home so we can have it for whenever, the police officers and detective working on bringing us a sense of justice, the therapists, PT, and all different medical professionals who've looked after us and found us trustworthy people abroad to rely on, and just everyone else who supported us, helped us and cared for us through what undoubtedly have been the hardest few months of our lives._

_Can't wait to come back when the US is a better place. For now, you can be sure I'm going to snuggle under the covers with my family wherever gun laws are strict AF. Not saying the other place will necessarily keep us safe, but at least I'll sleep calm knowing we gave our kids the safest home we could find._

_Much love people,_

_Ash & the gang xx._'

  
  


  
  



	16. A new home

**Chapter 16: A new home.**

Frankfurt proved to be just what they needed in a very short time. Despite the exhaustion of travel and unpacking, Ashlyn found herself feeling instantly at peace in the German city, so much that she almost felt like having sex, which hadn't happened since she had been shot. They still didn't get any, but Ashlyn enjoyed snuggling with her wife with almost no clothes, wrapping her strong tattooed arms around her and kissing her as if she was her oxygen, which in all honesty, she was beginning to feel like. Ali also enjoyed being in Germany from minute one, and Finley and Logan took the new garden and the new parks with the utmost enthusiasm.

“Ashlyn,” Ashlyn's eyes opened in the middle of a snowy December night after Christmas. “Ash, ugh... ouch...”

“What?” Ashlyn turned the lamp on and rolled over to face her wife, who seemed in pain for a few seconds before releasing a long breath. “Are you all right babe?” she added, rubbing the sleep off her eyes.

“I'm in labour.”

“Oh. Okay, I'll get my shoes on and awake your Mum.” Ali and Ashlyn's mothers had come to Germany for whenever their granddaughter was born. The fathers were on standby in their home-towns, and their brothers, who had their own husband/wife, one pregnant and the other awaiting until finishing adoption, were also ready to fly whenever.

“It's okay, I think it'll be a couple hours before going to the hospital.”

“All right,” Ashlyn turned the light off and wrapped an arm around her. “Try to get some rest,” she kissed her temple, “I love you, I'm right here if you need anything.”

“You're here. That's all I need,” Ali turned to peck her lips. “You're the love of my life.”

“Then I'm not going anywhere.”

A few hours later Ashlyn woke by herself hearing Ali groaning in pain and feeling her sit up. The contractions had become worse and her water would break any time now, so Ashlyn got up from bed, got dressed, and sat next to Ali, wrapping one arm protectively around her.

“You're doing so well, my love,” Ashlyn encouraged, feeling more confident after having been there for Finley's arrival.

“She's early,” Ali groaned.

“Not so much, won't even be considered premature. I'll wake up our Mums,” Ashlyn kissed her temple and stood up, calmly walking to Tammye's room and once her mother was sitting up and putting on her glasses, which was a guarantee she wasn't about to fall back asleep, she went to Debbie's room and repeated the process.

Then, the three women joined Ali in the room to check how she was doing.

“What do you think, should we take you to the hospital?” Debbie asked softly, rubbing soothing circles on her daughter's back.

“Yeah, I think it's time,” Ali nodded. “Is Finley still sleeping?”

“Yes, and I'll look after him,” Tammye promised. “You go, just now it has stopped snowing and you don't want to go when the weather gets worse.”

“Thanks Mum, I'll call you.”

Ashlyn helped Ali into their rented car, made sure their bags were in the car, as she had put them in days before in prevision for Robin's arrival, and ensured Ali was comfortable, with her coat, favourite blanket and shoes on, while Debbie sat in the back and kept a hand on Ali's arm from behind her, to comfort her. Then, she drove off into the night as the sun was just beginning to rise. Adrenaline kept them awake just fine, and judging by how quickly Ali's contractions seemed to get stronger and closer in time compared to the first time, she knew this birth would be fast.

Ali had insisted on naming Robin either Robin Tammye or Robin Eunice, because she liked for middle names to fall in Ashlyn's side of the family, as she so far had been the boss with the first names, and as the Harrises, who were closer geographically when living in Florida, had helped her tremendously adapting to Florida, welcoming her with open arms, and being so great Ali had no words. But as she pushed Robin out, she still had very little idea what her middle name would be and hoped her face would tell.

“She was no particular name face,” Ashlyn murmured hours later as she sat with arms wrapped around Ali, who held their new daughter, a little gorgeous bundle of joy with dark, abundant hair. “She's perfect, though. Reminds me of you, little and with that hair,” Ashlyn grinned, kissing her cheek and feeling truly overjoyed for the first time in months.

“She can wait for a middle name,” Ali sniffled, as she had been crying silently from happiness, while grinning down at Robin and caressing her perfect chubby face, “or she can have three names.”

“It's not a big deal, both of them are nanas anyway,” Ashlyn whispered, kissing her cheek again. “God, I'm still in awe at how you do these things. Two perfect children, I'm so lucky.”

“She's okay, right?” Ali wondered. “Despite it all.”

“I think she'll be fine, Alex,” Debbie assured, caressing Robin's soft dark mane. “You can't keep your children from struggling, but you can make sure they're tough enough to get back on their feet. And with the family she has, I'm sure our Robin has the ability to get back on her feet engraved in vein.” Ashlyn snorted a laugh.

“Your Mum's right,” Ashlyn said. “Who knows, we may have the next USWNT's or, plot twist, Germany's WNT legend in the arms right now.”

“Whatever she is,” Ali chuckled at her daughter, “the world will be lucky to have her.”

Hugging both her human children close at once proved to be a healing experience for Ashlyn in the hospital. Tammye brought Finley in the morning, and since Ali soon managed a nap, she sat on an armchair with Robin in one arm and Finley half holding his new sister, hugging them both close as Finley got to admire his new bestie for the first time and the grandmothers took photos. Ashlyn instantly felt like the past few months were a bad nightmare and this, pure heaven.

“Hey buddy,” Ashlyn called Finley's attention. “You're a big brother now, just like Uncle Kyle and Uncle Christopher are Mama and I's big brothers, you know?” he nodded.

“Baby sis,” Finley murmured, caressing Robin's cheek.

“Exactly. Will you be her best friend just like your uncles are our best friends?” Finley nodded. “That's my boy,” she kissed his temple. “Play your cards right, my love, and you'll have right here the most loyal, most caring, bestest best friend you could possibly wish for. She'll want to do everything you do, so show her the right way and she'll follow. Show her love, and she'll love you, show her respect, and she'll respect you, show her friendship, and she'll be the best of your friends. Okay?”

“Okay,” Finley nodded again. Ashlyn wasn't sure how well he understood, but she was calm. She knew with time, he'd get to build strong bonds with Robin to the point words wouldn't be necessary. Now, she felt her children would be okay no matter what, because they had each other, and siblings' bond is something that even those who don't get at all along with their siblings have to be sacred, more so than they themselves realize. And she knew her wedding anniversary in only days' time was going to be the sweetest, most perfect one yet.

Misfortune wanted that just a few weeks after Robin's arrival, when they had settled home and their families and friends were coming over one after the other, Christopher's arrival brought less good news. He hadn't wanted to say anything, and the whole family had done an agreement not to say anything and ruin the happy event, but it had been three weeks since Robin's birth, they weren't returning from Frankfurt due to Florida's lack of change, and the news were doomed to come out.

“So when's Nana coming?” Ashlyn asked her brother excitedly while he held Robin close. “I've been trying to phone her, but she's kinda MIA these days. Did you tell her we're going to Florida soon to baptize Robin? We expect her to be there.”

“Oh,” Christopher gulped, looking down at his niece, “then she probably won't come before that. I mean, if you guys are coming...”

“Yeah, but we won't be there for another couple months at least,” Ali said from her spot on the carpeted floor, where, enjoying her physical freedom now that she wasn't pregnant, she was playing with Finley with renovated energy. “Finn would love to see Nana Eunice, right Finney?”

“Nana!” Finley smiled and put his car toy in his mouth, making Ali giggle, although she gently took it away. Christopher exchanged a look with his parents, who sort of shrugged and nodded.

“Ash, uh... Nana's not coming,” said Christopher delicately, looking at his sister and being cautious with his words in front of his nephew and niece.

“Why?” Ashlyn frowned. “Oh, is it because it's such a long trip? I swear I keep forgetting she's in her nineties,” Ashlyn snorted a laugh. “You should help her come, bro.”

“It has nothing to do with the long trip sis, there's no distance Nana wouldn't fly or walk to meet Robin. She's been loving all those photographs and videos, and Skyping with her and Finley, she's been impatient to hold her, planning to come... but ultimately, it's impossible. Corey, why don't you guys take Finley to play in his room, uh?” he offered. Ashlyn and Ali looked confused, but Corey picked Finley up and, with his own kids in tow, rushed into the house talking about dance party.

“What's that about?” Ali asked, baffled. She had just been holding her son.

“Sorry,” said Christopher. “I just thought you'd appreciate him not hearing.”

“Not hearing what?” Ashlyn inquired. Christopher gulped and sighed.

“Ash... a couple days ago, Nana...” he sighed. Ashlyn's eyes widened and she paled.

“A couple days ago Nana?” Ashlyn pressed, needing to hear. “Nana what?”

“She died,” Christopher choked out. By then, it was their only living grandparent, and the closest to them, even more so to Ashlyn, so he dreaded looking up. But he did, and saw Ashlyn look as if she had been shot again. “I'm so, so sorry. We didn't want to say anything to avoid saddening the happy occasion of Robin's birth, that's why we agreed on hiding it for a few days...”

“Right,” Ashlyn's voice seemed to choke, and she stood up, slowly pacing away. Christopher looked at Ali, who looked shocked and stared at her wife with glassy eyes, quickly standing up.

“What...” Ali took a deep breath, her voice hoarse with emotion. “What happened?”

“She was just old,” Mike, Eunice's son, said softly. Now the bags under his eyes made more sense. “It happened while she slept, didn't feel a thing. And she died a very happy woman, after a long, fulfilled life, and with several grandchildren. Shame she didn't get to meet Chris' kid, but... she still got to meet a good bunch, and knew others would come as well. She was just happy.”

Ali let a shaky breath out, her hands on her hips.

“I'm so sorry,” Ali gave her condolences. “Hey, Ash...” she turned around and wrapped her arms around her wife from behind, knowing how sad she was. “I've got you, love.”

Ashlyn took a deep breath as her eyes filled with tears and interlaced her fingers with Ali's pressing them against her chest as she looked at the sky through the window and her heart broke. If only they hadn't left Florida, she would've seen her grandmother one last time so soon.

“Fuck,” Ashlyn murmured, letting sobs take over.

Although it seemed like they didn't get a break, during their short trip back to Florida to bury Eunice properly and have therapeutic walks across the beach with their children, Ashlyn received a call that the trial against Reggie Palmer was just two weeks away, so they could begin to buy tickets back to Florida. Police had no idea they were already back, even though temporally.

Doing her best to stay healthy and keep going, Ashlyn held on until the trial, and enjoyed giving every bit of evidence possible against Reggie. By then, police had found Ashlyn's blood in clothes that also had his DNA and that he had thrown-away but that had been found in a dumping site. Her blood was also in his car, his alibi had been destroyed after discovering his wife was just lying, and his gun had been found hidden in a secret safe behind a hidden door in the back of his closet. A bullet matching Ashlyn's wound was missing, and the gun had his DNA, and surprisingly, also Ashlyn's, because it had seemingly also been used to hit her at some point, leaving a bit of blood that, despite his attempts to clean, had given DNA to the forensics.

A month later, when they were back in Germany and the policeman was condemned to life of imprisonment, as his job as a cop had been considered an aggravating factor, Ashlyn received a surprising message from a young black boy who said he was the one she saved and thanked her for it, plus telling her everything that he remembered of the day, and that matched her own story. That added charges against the policeman with accusations of misconduct, abuse of power and unreasonable arrest, and it seemed clearer than ever than the cop would never leave prison.

  
  


  
  



	17. Epilogue

**Chapter 17: Epilogue.**

At 46, Alexandra Blaire Krieger-Harris could say without a shadow of hesitation that she was the happiest she had ever been. She was fluent at German and English, and was recently becoming really good at Spanish, because she liked to keep her brain active learning new things. She was close to her 11th wedding anniversary, even closer to her 20th anniversary since the first date with her wife, and had just celebrated her eldest son's ninth birthday. Her wife's 46th birthday would come next, and then their daughter Robin Eunice's seventh birthday, although they had birthdays all year long, starting with their firstborn Logan's birthday. It didn't matter that Logan was a dog. Their French bulldog Frankie was also a dog, and yet they were both counted as their children so often, that more than one it had led into administration mistakes with paperwork, as they forgot the world separated between human and dog children. But just with their human children they were busy all year long. Niklas Christopher was adopted a year after Robin's birth, and then two years afterwards they adopted Emily Alexandra and closed the circle, deciding they were too old to get more children.

They all had lived peacefully in a big house in a nice area of Frankfurt, Germany, for almost eight years, with frequent trips to their second home in Orlando, Florida, but still spending more than three quarters of the year in Germany. Their children went to an American school where their curriculum was mixed American-German, Ali did modelling and also coached Frankfurt's frauen soccer team, the same one she once played for, while Ashlyn did modelling, designed clothes, and had recently written an inspiring best-seller talking about overcoming the worst obstacle being shot years before and having to change country afterwards.

All their children and, by now, even her wife Ashlyn, were fluent in German and English, and three out of four human children had double nationality, which their German fans had happily welcomed with hopes of getting their national soccer teams improved. They'd be disappointed to hear Robin actually had a knack for music that had surprised them all, and had been in the conservatory from the age of 5, being now a tremendous pianist, as she hadn't stopped playing since she discovered her big brother's piano toy with about a year of age. They had been quick to discover the innate talent, and nurtured it. Finley enjoyed sports, but it was bicycling and surfing the two that really captured his attention, as bicycling was almost Germany's national sport, with how much people did it there, and Ashlyn often took the kids to surfing spots wherever they could in the weekends. Niklas was autistic, but he was also the huggest brain in the family. The odd stuff had come when he resolved complex Math problems at the age of 4, and soon they found he was specially gifted, reading adults' books before he was five and speaking with a teenager's vocabulary. And then there was Emily, who loved arts as if Ashlyn had birthed her. So the chances of a soccer player were slim, but they had slight hopes on Finley, who when he touched the ball did magical things with it, and liked scoring goals, surprising his 'Defence Team' mothers.

“Of course he's more an attack guy,” Ashlyn had joked then, watching Finley in his first soccer camp, years previously. “His freaking Mama was the Princess Warrior, and I was fairly good street-fighter. God, what have we done...” Ali simply laughed, watching along, and cheering for their boy.

Emily, however, also had high chances of doing both arts and sports. She liked playing ball, and was keen on going to camps, from which Robin and Niklas often passed, so USWNT could still have a degree of hope. Whatever their children wanted to do in life, however, was something that didn't take sleep from their mothers, who went to bed every day happy and feeling blessed knowing their kids were happy and that was all that mattered.

They were currently having an exciting and very emotional day. It was Saturday afternoon and, after saying goodbye to the last of their boxes, that was being carried into a truck from a moving company and then a plane and would follow them to Florida, Ashlyn and Ali were ensuring their children were all prepared and had everything they could possibly need for their trip, as they couldn't leave a thing behind.

“Come on kids, let's take a minute,” said Ashlyn, wrapping her arms around her four children and sitting with them on the floor of their now empty living room. Ali joined, grabbing the leashes of their dogs. “This will be the last time we're in this house. Not our last time in Frankfurt, but we won't live in this city anymore.” The kids, of young ages 9, 7, 6 and 4, experienced different degrees of emotions since the moment the mothers had decided to move and had talked out with them what they thought about it, so as a family they agreed to go.

“Why are we going, Mommy?” Emily asked, nuzzling into Ashlyn's embrace. She was affectionate and sensitive, adopted with just weeks of age after her biological parents had abandoned her under unknown circumstances. She had arrived into their house ill and underweight, and they had loved her and nursed her back to health. They believed her biological parents were German or from centre Europe or North Europe, because she looked European, but was the only one of their children who had light eyes, of a deep blue colour, with a light brown hair and a very round face.

“Because life is supposed to give us time to have everything. We don't have to choose. We are here for a while and now... now we will go back to Florida, to be closer to our family and our friends there, like your cousins, and grandparents. It'll be an adjustment and many things will be different, but it doesn't have to be worse. Just different,” Ashlyn said, never minding having to have the same talks a thousand times to help her kids be okay with the drastic life change.

She and Ali still had their doubts about whether they were making the worst decision of their lives and Finley and Robin, who had good friends to leave behind and were of an age in which these sort of changes wasn't so easy, not to mention Niklas who, like most autistic people, didn't love change, but they went on because they knew in the long run it was better. The US had approved, in the summer before, a huge change in gun laws that made them almost as strict as German ones, Florida had done some gradual progress over years and years and now hadn't had a shooting in years, and their status in German was still of immigrants, which didn't make them feel the most comfortable all the time. They could only stay while Ashlyn and Ali worked, thanks to a residence permit given because they had jobs there, and out of their four children, Finley was the only to not have dual citizenship and didn't have access to the same things as the others because of it, even if he was pretty close. If they were Europeans, it'd be different, but they were Americans, and realized that adulthood would be better for their four children somewhere where they all had full opportunities as they all had citizenship. Still, they were all sad. Germany had made them indescribably happy, had helped old wounds heal and now, a day from Ashlyn's seven year shooting anniversary, they weren't even thinking of that. Ashlyn's physical wounds had completely healed, she had gotten fit and strong again, and mentally she was in a much better place, and loving life in Frankfurt, with new friends that had organized them a big farewell party. Ali was also doing great, and their children and pets were healthy. Robin was a bit more anxious than the other kids, but aside from that she didn't seem to have any other effects from pregnancy stress. And it had all been thanks to Germany. They knew they couldn't have recovered so fully if it hadn't been for moving here, and the country had gifted them three more kids than they originally came with, so there were all sorts of reasons to love and miss Frankfurt am Main.

“Why don't we say something nice to the house?” Ali proposed, putting an arm around her eldest, Finley. If Robin as a mini Ali, physically, Finley was a lot like Ashlyn, with few differences. Finley was the tallest in his class, with broad shoulders and already bits of acne. He had Ashlyn's hazel eyes, the shape his own, and his hair was brown now, and wavy. He had the dimple of his Mommy and Grandpa, and big square hands, with talented long legs for sports, and he had a level of kindness, thoughtfulness, and humbleness, that was always a reminder of the Harrises.

“Okay,” Finley decided to start, hugging Logan, his bestie. “Thank you house for being a home, and for all the happy memories. I'll miss you.”

“Good job,” Ali kissed his temple. Ali had aged well, Ashlyn would always say, through doing sports every single day for her entire life, pretty much. She stayed fit, and although her face was rounder and she had a bit of a belly, she still made people turn around in the street. She still put on mascara even to pick the mail, she was the spiders' terror and her family's relief, and she had achieved her ambition of still not having a shaggy butt. Her hair was going through a short phase, and Ashlyn found her sexy beyond belief. “Well, thank you house for all the fun and all the liebe. This was awesome.”

“You were a splendid house, warm in the winter and fresh in the summer,” Robin noted. “And we had the best parties here.”

“You were my first home, where to always feel safe,” added Niklas shyly. He was their only blonde child, adopted in similar circumstances to Emily, and with a long freckled nose and warm dark eyes.

“I really liked living here,” said Emily with a sigh.

“Yeah...” Ashlyn looked sadly around the living room that was once so full of family photographs. “Thank you house, for much more than I can possibly put into words. You saved this family, and I'm forever in your debt.” She cleared her voice, and stood up, leaving on the kitchen counter the drawing-covered envelope inside of which they had left a note for the next family, wishing them the best luck and the happiness they'd had. “Ready?”

“Auf wiedersehen,” Ali waved at the house, and her children imitated her before walking through the door Ashlyn held open. Ashlyn was the last to look back.

“Auf wiedersehen,” she murmured with a broken voice, waving and leaving, closing firmly after her.

The flight home was long and exhausting beyond belief, with four children and two dogs, but they were lucky to have been able to rent a private plane experienced in these kind of routes. Emily drew, Niklas listened to classical music while reading Charles Dickens, Robin chattered away, and Finley wrote his journal. Ali alternated naps with caring for everyone, and Ashlyn did the same, although getting more hours of sleep in compensation for having slept the least during the night. Her short brown hair was kept at the favoured length, just enough to cover her ears and get wavy, and her face rested gently on Ali's shoulder. She had developed a bit of a double chin, only lightly, had more sun freckles, and although fit and athletic, hadn't had abs in years. Ali still thought there was no one more gorgeous and beautiful inside out than her, and their marriage, with its ups and downs, was happy.

Their fans hadn't known they lived in Frankfurt for the entire first year of them living abroad. They had only revealed it once Reginald Palmer's sentence was reaffirmed, condemned to life in a Texas high security prison without parole nor possibilities of early release, while his wife had to do ten years in another prison in another state for obstruction to justice by lying to give her husband an alibi and helping him destroy evidence. The entire case had then become entirely public, fans got to understand better why they had left, and eventually, the marriage decided it was okay to reveal they were in Frankfurt, as it would come out anyway, with the jobs they had and later, the book Ashlyn had written.

“Well, kids, that's America,” Ali pointed out after several hours on the plane, as they all woke-up from a long sleeping time and crowded around the windows.

“Hello to beach weekends, surfing, skating, bicycling, kicking balls, painting, reading, pool hangs and seeing our families all the freaking time,” Ashlyn grinned, starting to get excited.

“Will our cousins be there to receive us?” Finley asked.

“Uncle Kyle will pick us up, and we'll see everyone when we've finished unpacking.”

“Oh, we also have to unpack?” Robin moaned.

“Cheer up princess, we're going to have loads of beach after unpacking, and you can play piano in any volume you like. We've gotten you a bigger one now that we have a bigger house.” Robin grinned at Ashlyn, who kissed her cheek, and they sat back to prepare for landing.

“That's my gang!” Kyle laughed as his nephews and nieces ran to him and they all hugged at the airport. Kyle was a father as well by now, and he had a very special bond with Niklas, being one of the few adults who Niklas hugged. His autism wasn't too grand, but there were still moments in which it made his life particularly hard and then Uncle Kyle always managed to make him laugh. “I'm so happy to see you all!”

“Any love for your little sister?” Ali teased jokingly, loving how close he was with her children, as she was with his.

“All and more!” Kyle hugged her tightly, and then Ashlyn, who he loved as if they had grown-up together as well. With the time change, it was now very early on September 8th, so on the anniversary of a terrible event, they happily entered what had in the past been their home, and now would be again.

They were surprised, though, to find that most boxes had been unpacked for them, the house was clean and looking nice, and all their friends and family, including many from soccer, welcomed them with smiles, music, drinks, and big 'WELCOME HOME' shouts.

Life just kept getting better, and so they left the shadows behind.

THE END


End file.
